


Strawberries

by nwhiker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nwhiker/pseuds/nwhiker
Summary: For the first time, Sirius Black sees Severus Snape as a man, not an enemy...





	Strawberries

**Author's Note:**

> Canon. People die.

**Strawberries**

  
**Part I**

The grass was damp under his paws, as he waited. It was almost dawn. The castle was dark in the gloom, with just a few windows shining here and there.

He heard the "Pop!" of someone Apparating nearby and trotted over, silently, careful to remain hidden. As he'd expected: Snape, hunched in a black travelling cloak.

As Padfoot watched, the other wizard slowly started walking away from the castle, towards the lake. He barely started when the black dog fell into step next to him.

The smell overwhelmed him. Overlaid over the scent of Snape, which he knew and detested, the mix of man, lemon verbena, and, surprisingly, honey, were other smells, much more ominous, very uncharacteristic of Snape: urine, blood, excrement, sweat, and pain. The dog part of him, instinctively, whimpered, and started to tremble. The human part of him, his brain, noticed that while there was pain, there was no fear. He would have been able to sense that.

Snape ignored him, so the dog followed, matching his trot to the wizard's slower steps.

He used his human brain to override the urge to whimper. Something was wrong with Snape and while his brain told him not care -it was Snape, after all-, the dog was nervous.

There was a small boat at the edge of the lake. Snape looked at the dog and his voice was weary when he asked, "You coming?"

Both were wet by the time they got in the boat and Snape pushed off with an oar. He rowed out into the lake, over towards the cliffs.

The smell of pain was overwhelming. Padfoot transformed, rocking the boat and almost tipping it over.

"What the fuck?" Snape hissed, quietly.

"Move," he whispered back.

Snape moved and Sirius took the oars, dipping them softly into the water, listening to Snape's murmured directions. He finally saw, in the light before light, the opening in the cliff, and he navigated the boat through it, into the dark low tunnel and continued to row.

He hopped out and pulled the boat ashore in the small underground harbour. He hadn't been here since his first year, since getting on that boat with James and two other boys, James glaring all the while at the boat in front of them with the beautiful little redhead and the nasty dark ugly boy.

He shook his head to dispel the ghosts. Snape was slowly standing, and while Sirius could not sense pain as Padfoot could, Snape's halting moves made it clear that it wasn't any better. He hesitated, not sure if it was a good idea, but held out his hand.

He heard Snape's sharp intake of breath, but a few seconds later, the man took it and Sirius was able to help him to shore.

"Thank you."

The darkness was barely broken by the few torches that illuminated the path that Sirius knew would lead to the lawn in front of the castle. He headed that way but stopped at Snape's whispered "No", turned and followed the other man's slow steps in the opposite direction, behind few boulders, to a dark recess. Snape slipped in, and Sirius attempted to follow, but even thin and emaciated as he was, he was taller than Snape, and he transformed back into Padfoot, and whimpered.

The man's hand touched his head and he quieted. Slowly they made their way down the narrow, dank passageway, rough stone on either side of them, and above. The path twisted and curved, with many turnoffs and junctions, and Snape navigated his way unerringly, the dog following.

The passageway dead-ended and they stopped, the dog bumping into the man, and whimpering to hear him whimper. Snape murmured a quick spell, put his hand on the dog's head and said "Together", and they walked through the wall.

He turned back. The rough stone wall behind them looked normal. They were in small passageway, but now the side walls were cut stone.

Snape sighed and started walking, ignoring some corridors, taking others. Slowly the passages were getting wider.

Finally he stopped, murmured a password, and a door appeared in the wall and swung open. He entered, and the dog followed.

When Snape spoke, his voice was weary: "What do you want? I don't have time for a fight."

Sirius had transformed back and was shaking his head. "Snape. You're hurt. What's the matter?"

Snape's eyes widened and Sirius understood that he thought he could hide his pain, probably had before, from others.

"I could smell it. Well... my dog form could."

Snape blushed, shame written all over his face. They both knew what else the dog had smelled.

"Are you all right?"

Snape shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Snape. I asked if you were all right." He stared at the other man, refusing to back down but totally and utterly non-antagonistic. His talk with Dumbledore the evening before had left him reeling and he didn't want to start out with a fight.

Snape closed his eyes. "I will be all right. I'm not seriously injured. I just need a bath and a potion."

He swayed on his feet and Sirius grabbed him by the elbow. He helped Snape sit down on the sofa and spoke softly: "I'll run you a bath."

Snape glared at him: "I don't need..."

"Just let me, all right? I want to talk to you."

He saw exhaustion and pain fighting with pride and dislike on Snape's face, but fatigue won out and Snape nodded.

He went into Snape's bedroom and stopped in shock at the door. His cell in Azkaban had been about as welcoming. There were no rugs on the stone dungeon floor, the bed had only a thin blanket on it, and it felt cold and damp. A few clothes were lined up on a shelf, and Snape's robes hung up. The only indication that someone lived there, rather than just visited occasionally, were the books that were piled on a small table, by the side of the bed, on the floor.

The bathroom was similar. Small, chilly, and very clean. He ran water, watching as it filled the tub, steam rising, warming the bathroom. He called to Snape, and when he came in, his face was grey with fatigue.

He hesitated. It was obvious Snape could use the help, but also obvious that considering their relationship, he'd never accept it from Sirius. He bit his lip. "Call me, if you need help, all right?"

Snape nodded, but didn't speak, and Sirius left the bathroom.

He sat on Snape's bed, dozing. The room was dark, totally underground, and he wondered why Snape had chosen it. The candles barely seemed to cut the darkness and the fireplace didn't look like it had had a fire in it in, well, forever.

He woke to see Snape standing next to the bed. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain, and immediately apologised: "I'm sorry."

Snape didn't answer. He was wearing an old towelling robe, dark green and rather ratty. "What do you want?" he asked.

Sirius sighed. He'd hoped for a bit more of a preamble.

"Aren't you tired?"

Snape closed his eyes for a second, then glared at Sirius: "I am tired. However, I must be at breakfast in the Great Hall in 45 minutes and I would very much like you out of here before then."

"What happened to you?"

Snape sighed. "Why do you care?"

"Because I know you were hurt." He hesitated. "Voldemort?"

Snape winced at the name, but nodded.

"What...?"

"Cruciatis."

Sirius closed his eyes, shuddering. When he opened him, Snape was staring at him, looking slightly surprised. "Have you never... been subjected to it?" he asked.

Sirius shook his head.

"Not even in Azkaban? I'd have thought they..."

"Some were, maybe. Nobody ever tried with me."

Snape nodded. "I see. Well, now, Black..."

"We need to talk."

Snape hesitated, then sat on the bed. "I'm listening."

Sirius squirmed a bit. He didn't quite know where to begin. He didn't want to ramble, this was going to be hard enough, but he had to do it. For Harry.

He took a deep breath. "I went to find Lupin."

Snape quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask what that mattered.

"I was supposed to stay with him for a while."

"Yes, you were."

Sirius nodded. "I didn't."

"That much is obvious. Now, Black..."

Sirius held up a hand and Snape quieted.

"We talked quite a bit, Remus and I."

"Oh?"

"About you."

Snape shrugged.

"We decided that since you really are a Death Eater," Snape winced, "that you should not be allowed near Harry and..."

Snape cut him off, his voice smooth and deadly. "Would that not be for the Headmaster to decide?"

"Yes, of course. So I went to Dumbledore and told him I didn't think you belonged in the Order and that we should get rid of you."

"And what did he say?"

Sirius' voice was pained. "He told me that Remus and I, or anyone who didn't want to work with you, were more than welcome to leave, and that if it came down to it, the Order would be you and him, and he'd rather that than lose you."

"Ah," said Snape.

"I don't trust you, but he does. I want to know why."

Snape stood, and despite the bare feet, the still damp hair, and the threadbare robe, Sirius sensed the power in the man.

"That," he said, "is none of your business. Now, if you'd..."

Sirius needed to continue, he reached out, and without thinking, touched Snape's hip, the closest part to him. "Wait."

He felt the warmth through the thin fabric and gulped, surprised as his own body tensed and desire coursed through him. He stilled, and swallowed again, as Snape jumped back. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then, without dropping his gaze, Snape sat back down.

"I... Dumbledore, when we shook hands the other day... Good enough to be going on with, right? Well, I realised, talking to Remus, since Dumbledore insists you are critical to everything, that we have to be good enough to save Harry's life if need be. I guess you won't tell me why you're helping, though I think I may have guessed. But good enough isn't going to cut it to keep Harry safe, and I want that more than anything else."

He took a deep breath. Snape was staring at the floor, but Sirius could tell he was listening.

"I can't say that I'll learn to trust you, but I will assume that you are trustworthy. I will, forever, give you the benefit of the doubt."

"How big of you, Black!" Snape sneered, "But I don't care..."

"Wait," said Sirius, "One more thing..." He looked at Snape. "Well, actually, two."

"I know Dumbledore will have told you, after last year, and I don't know if you believe him but... I wasn't the Secret Keeper. It **was** my fault, because I urged James and Lily to switch from me to Peter, but I didn't betray them that way." He could hear the neediness in his voice. Somehow, it was imperative that Snape believe him, he wasn't quite sure why.

He was surprised at how soft Snape's voice was "I know."

"You know?"

Snape nodded. "Dumbledore had told me... but last night, Peter Pettigrew made a point of bragging all over again... And so you know, I did not know that he was alive until I saw him last week."

"What happened last night?"

Snape shrugged. "I'm not in favour right now, and got roughed up a little bit."

Sirius shook his head. "Roughed up seems rather mild."

"It could have been worse," he sighed, "Was there anything else?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes. I need your help. I want to catch Peter."

"Ah."

"Yeah. If I can do that, and get him to the Ministry...."

"Black, I don't think that idiot Fudge would..."

"Snape, it's my only chance! I... I have to try. Can... would... you help?"

Snape was silent for a while, then finally shook his head. "I must be mad. I also sure that Dumbledore hasn't approved this plan?" He glanced at Sirius, who wouldn't meet his eye. "I didn't think so... I don't know..."

He stood. "And now I must get dressed and go to breakfast."

"Breakfast, huh?"

Snape rolled his eyes, but walked out to the main room. Sirius heard him talking, and a few moments later, he came back with a tray and set it down on the bed.

"Eat," he said, and he grabbed some clothes and went to get dressed in the bathroom.

When he came back, Sirius was still sitting on his bed, a cup of tea in his hand. Snape sighed.

"Look, you know, or you've guessed what I'm doing?"

Sirius nodded.

"I cannot compromise my position there. I will not do anything that endangers my cover, but... if I can help you get Pettigrew... I will."

Sirius nodded. His suspicions were correct. Snape had never forgotten Lily, his best friend for so many years, and probably the only person he'd ever cared about. He decided to prod a little.

"Why?"

Snape shrugged. "Let's just say I have some debts to repay and leave it at that?"

Later, when Snape came back from breakfast and seeing the students off to the Hogwarts Express, he found Sirius Black, totally naked, sound asleep and sprawled on his bed. He sighed, pulled a blanket over the other wizard, and went to lie down on the sofa.

 

\----- ∞ -----

The dog stared at the man who had just come through the door, both of them frozen in horror at seeing the other one there. Sirius had eavesdropped, not for the first time, on Snape and Dumbledore, who'd been talking late the previous night about this planned meeting. He knew Snape was going to be there. He knew Pettigrew was going to be there. He knew Voldemort was going to be there, and while that was a complication Sirius didn't want, his overwhelming desire to get Peter had allowed him to disregard that.

The high-pitched voice came from the sitting room: "Peter, McNair and his friend will be arriving. See them in and wait outside."

Two doors started to open simultaneously, the door to the sitting room and he could see the gleam of Peter's silver hand, and the door from the outside.

Snape moved quickly and silently. He crossed the hallway, grabbed the dog by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him into a small closet that Sirius hadn't noticed, shutting and magically locking the door behind them.

It was tiny and cramped, and smelled of mothballs, though it was at least empty. It was dark, though a little light filtered in under the door and through the keyhole.

The dog whimpered and Snape put a hand on his head, mechanically scritching the ears, and they both listened.

"He is awaiting you." Pettigrew. Sirius growled, low, and Snape again pressed his hand against the dog's head.

They heard a chair being dragged in from somewhere and both felt their stomachs sink. Pettigrew would not be moving.

Dog changed to man, and they shifted. The closet was much too small and they were pressed together. Sirius leaned over and whispered in Snape's ear: "Can we Apparate away?"

Snape shook his head. "No, he's set up Boundaries."

Sirius nodded, assessing the situation. Not good.

"How long...?"

Snape sighed: "A while. McNair was bringing someone new to the cause, this could last."

They heard noise outside, then Pettigrew's voice, panicked: "What's that? Is someone there?"

Sirius sighed, then was silent.

It was dark, and hot, and quickly became stuffy. Snape was pressed against the door, Sirius against Snape's side, his nose in Snape's hair.

It must have been at least an hour, Sirius thought, and he checked his watch. Twenty minutes. He could feel his legs start to cramp and he shifted. Snape moved slightly too, and they settled against each other.

He inhaled. Even with his human sense of smell, so much less sensitive than the dog's, he could smell it: honey. Snape always smelled like honey, he wanted to ask him why, he wondered why, he wondered why he cared, he wondered when Snape's scent, that he'd so detested, had become pleasant.

He breathed in deeply again and started to tremble. Blood pooled in his groin, and he tried to breathe through it but it was useless. His cock hardened, and he wondered if Snape was going to kill him.

He felt Snape's body go stiff and the other wizard tried to move away, but there was, really, nowhere to go. His moving rubbed at Sirius and he whimpered, and Snape murmured "Shush!" and they both stilled for a moment listening for Pettigrew.

Nothing.

Sirius breathed again, and he felt Snape's hair flutter. He was shocked at how much he wanted Snape, and at how unexpected this desire was. He wanted to rub against him, desperately wanted to reach around and feel Snape's hardness in his hand. Of course, he thought wryly to himself, that was assuming Snape was himself aroused.

He found the small spot of skin between the top of Snape's collar and his hairline and pressed his lips to it. The skin was hot, the smell of Snape overwhelming and Sirius circled the smaller man's body with his arms and pulled him close, groaning almost soundlessly as his groin pressed into Snape's arse. In a fleeting moment of clarity he swore to himself that Snape moved again, and attempted to avoid him, he'd let go. He continued to nuzzle, neck, then up to the ear, licking behind it, then tracing its volutes with his tongue, and he heard Snape moan, and felt him press back, and he bit the inside of his mouth to avoid whimpering.

Snape carefully turned around, and they were face to face in the dark close space, and hands grabbed and grappled, while lips met in silence, disorganised at first, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but they figured it out and settled into a kiss that was both foreplay and pleasure in itself.

His mouth tasted of the elf wine that he'd probably shared with Voldemort, and his lips were hot, and surprisingly soft. His tongue, wet and rough, met Sirius' in a slow sensual dance that bodies echoed, as they rubbed together, both eager for contact. In the silent darkness, with touch their only communication, the kissing deepened and the humping became frenetic, until Sirius reached down and fumbled with the buttons on Snape's robes, and Snape pushed him away and tore at them himself, while Sirius did the same.

The unreality of it struck him, as he pushed his trousers and underpants down, his cock hard and leaking and desperate for friction... Was it really Snape -Severus Snape?- who had caused this reaction in him?

Searing skin, and Sirius felt hot pre-come smear against his stomach and he sucked at Snape's bottom lip, careful not to make a sound. They were both trembling, and he felt Snape's nails digging into his shoulders, holding on as they ground their bodies together.

Snape's face was buried in Sirius' neck and Sirius could feel the teeth, the end of day stubble on Snape's chin, the hot breath. He brought their bodies together, heard his balls slap against Snape's and stopped breathing for a moment.

Then he slipped his hand between their bodies, and took hold of Snape's cock.

Breathe, he reminded himself, as he explored. Like most cocks, it felt right in his hand, and he pumped a few times, and Snape's grip tightened. He moved his fingers experimentally, cataloging size and shape, and oh the heat! He let his hand stray down to Snape's balls, and he hefted them, rolled them, again marvelling that everything was always a perfect fit.

Then Snape's hand wrapped itself around Sirius' cock and he let his head fall back, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

He couldn't say who set the rhythm of their hands, or how they negotiated space to minimise wrists bumping. He couldn't say how they knew that Sirius should grab Snape's arse, but that Snape should hold on to Sirius' shoulder. He couldn't say how their mouths knew when to kiss, tongues battling, and when to use neck and hair to stifle moans that could not be contained. He could not say any of this because they were on pure animal instinct, both intent of giving and taking pleasure and their only goal, quickly attained, and almost simultaneous, was balls tightening and cocks pulsing, come shooting out of them, hot and desperate.

Being in a closet was a good thing, he thought later, because they would have both ended up on the floor had the walls not been so close. As it was they fell back on them, both working on keeping their breathing quiet, and each able to feel the other's trembling.

Non-verbally Snape cast a cleaning charm, and Sirius smiled, remembering how Snape had insisted, in 5th or 6th year, that non-verbal spell casting was critically important, and they'd mocked him. It had its uses, he admitted to himself now, with a smile on his face.

Much later, they straightened and redid clothes. He could feel Snape trying to avoid touching him and he figured the other wizard was just as confused about what had happened as he himself was.

Yet in one way, he wasn't confused at all. For a few moments it had all made sense, all the passionate emotions they felt for each other had shifted and crystallised into, Sirius admitted, the best sex he'd had in a long time.

He gulped silently, and in the dark reached out, groping around until he found Snape's hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the palm, then each fingertip, feeling how tense the other man was. He held that hand for a very long time, gently caressing, marvelling at the warmth and softness of it, until he felt Snape relax.

 

\----- ∞ -----

It was past two in the morning before they were able to slip out, McNair having left with his new recruit and Voldemort and Pettigrew having gone to bed. Once out of the house, they ran down the drive, past what Snape thought were the Apparition boundaries, and before the village.

"Hold on," said Snape, "We're leaving."

He grabbed Sirius by the forearms, and they disappeared.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Sirius looked around: shabby, dark room, books covering all the walls and every single horizontal surface.

Snape turned to Sirius, and started yelling.

He listened with half an ear... irresponsible, blowing cover, Dumbledore would be pissed, eavesdropping, dangerous. After a while it got repetitive, and he covered the distance between the two of them, grabbed Snape by the shoulders, and pulled him in for a kiss.

... That lasted two seconds or less. Snape shoved him away, wiped his mouth with his hand. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" he snarled.

Sirius smiled. For whatever absurd reason, he felt totally in control of the situation. "Kissing you. We enjoyed it earlier, I figured we could try again..."

"You have got to be..."

Sirius moved towards Snape again, put a hand on his upper arm and made sure his voice was carefully neutral.

"We've been attempting to kill each other, and hurt each other for over twenty years, Severus. Tonight, we've proven that we can relate to each other in a... different manner. I'm suggesting we see how that works out."

"You have got to be..."

"Kidding? No, I'm not. I'm as serious as I ever am. Which I am all the time. Sirius, I mean."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"Look, what do we have to lose? It could be good, we could..."

Snape cut him off, suspicious. "The question is why, Black? Why would you want to have sex with me, why would I want to have sex with you, and why the hell would either of us want to start a relationship in the middle of war that is surely going to leave both of us dead? Oh. And add to all that we hate each other."

"Lust," said Sirius, letting the word roll on his tongue, "Pure lust." He smiled. "You felt it, I did as well. Who cares that we're going to die or that we hate each other?"

"But..."

"Look, do you have anything to eat? I'm starving."

He sat at the table in the small, chilly kitchen while Snape, still wary, made him an omelette, and toasted some bread. He watched him snip some leaves off of a plant in the kitchen window and add them to the eggs. Sirius almost groaned in pleasure at the sight and smell as Snape slid a perfect pale yellow half moon, redolent of herbs, onto the chipped blue plate in front of him.

Snape poured them both tea and sat down across from Sirius.

"What, you're not eating?"

Snape shook his head. Sirius hesitated, then picked up the fork and took a bite of omelette.

He admitted later that he actually had moaned at the first bite. Pure eggy perfection, silk and velvet, herbs and pepper. He closed his eyes and took another bite, savouring it.

"This is incredibly good, Snape. Sure you don't want some?"

Snape shook his head again, and sipped his tea. Sirius ate in silence, and when he was done carefully washed the dishes.

"Bed?" he asked, outwardly calm, though he wasn't totally sure what Snape would do.

Snape stood and said, his voice still. "I think I will be going to bed, yes, but I also think you will be going back to that horrid house of yours..."

He made his voice cajolling. "Horrid is an understatement. Plus all the Weasleys are there, it's like Kings Cross Station." He took a step towards Snape, they were very close, he knew he was invading the other man's space. "I'd rather stay here, with you."

Snape blinked, very slowly. "Why? I still haven't gotten a good answer? Some type of prank, or what?"

Sirius shook his head. "I want you," he said, simply, "I'm not quite sure of why, it's just a simple fact. And what I want, I usually get."

Snape blinked again. "Oh really?" he hissed, "Well, that doesn't include me, so sorry to disa..."

"You felt it too, earlier. I know you did... the feeling that you're going to jump out of your skin, if you don't get to touch the other person?"

Snape didn't answer for a while. "That's beside the point, Black. I may, and I'm saying may, have enjoyed what happened earlier, but that doesn't mean I'll let it happen again and it certain..."

"But you want me too, don't you?"

"That is not relevant to..."

Sirius looked at him, straight into the dark eyes, almost daring him to look away and repeated his question. "You want me too, don't you?"

Snape's voice was hoarse. "Yes, I do."

"Well then..."

He held Snape's gaze and in the second before their lips touched, he saw raw desire, but no capitulation. He was being met by an equal, as a choice, and he thrilled.

The kiss lasted and lasted, he could feel that they were both hard, could feel the acceleration of Snape's heart, he ran his fingers through Snape's hair. And the smell, the sweet smell of Snape and honey and lemon verbena. He closed his eyes, and ran his hands down Snape's back, taking in the man's thin form, feeling ribs and vertebra under the robes, finally letting his hand rest on Snape's arse, cupping it, kneading the flesh, using his hold to pull Snape in tighter.

Snape slowly pulled out of the embrace. He looked at Sirius and said, his voice quiet: "Come on."

It was the awkward time, Sirius knew, walking to the bedroom, taking clothes off, made even more awkward here because they were neither friends, nor total strangers, and because a stray word would doom this all to failure, he was more nervous himself than at other times in his past. He suspected Snape felt the same way.

The stairs were narrow and dark and he followed Snape up them, into the bedroom, and Snape cast a spell for the candles.

They turned to face each other, and Sirius worked to calm his breathing and his heart. Snape held his eyes as he started to undress, undoing the buttons of his robe, though Sirius could see that his hands were trembling.

Good, he thought, at least I'm not the only one.

He looked around while he shed his clothes. The room, like Snape's quarters at Hogwarts, was stark. A simple, narrow, metal bedstand, thin blanket, and flat pillow made up the bed and when Snape leaned over to pull the covers back, Sirius looked at his arse.

It was skinny and white, with a... that wasn't... yes, it was. A heart-shaped birthmark, as large as a Galleon, pink, on the left cheek. He laughed.

Snape whole body tensed and he froze. Sirius cringed. That had been a mistake. He quickly closed the distance between them, and holding him, whispered in his ear: "You have a heart-shaped birthmark on your arse."

Snape shrugged and turned his face away. Sirius could tell he was pulling alway, that he was losing the man. He continued, nuzzling Snape's ear, "It's sweet."

Snape attempted again to pull away, but Sirius held on. "I want to kiss it," he murmured, "Will you let me?"

Snape said stiffly: "This is a bad idea, Black. Please leave."

Sirius dropped his arms, and his swallow was loud in the quiet room. He nodded and, sadder than he thought he'd be, started to get dressed again. He heard Snape do the same.

He turned around at the door. Snape was sitting on his bed, dressed again, his head in his hands. He didn't look up and Sirius left silently.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He knocked at Snape's door early the next morning. It was still cool, and there were few people about. The ones who were gave Sirius strange looks, his cloak was probably why, he reasoned to himself. He was still a fugitive, still on the run, but he was old news from a Muggle standpoint. He hoped.

Snape opened the door. Sirius gave him what he hoped was a totally disarming smile, holding up the package he was carrying: "Molly Weasley made sweet rolls this morning. I brought you some."

Snape stared at him for the longest time and Sirius could almost see the thoughts, the combination of mistrust, desire, hesitation, and embarrassment.

He lifted the tea towel that covered the basket and the aroma of fresh baked rolls wafted through the air. Snape rolled his eyes, but sniffed, and Sirius laughed and Snape stepped aside to let him in.

They drank tea, ate the sweet rolls and some strawberries Snape washed and set out, then Sirius did the dishes, while Snape dried them and put them away.

Still silent, they walked upstairs to the bedroom and undressed. Sirius, his knees almost ready to give out, lay down on the bed under the covers, and waited until Snape joined him.

He watched as Snape slowly undid the myriad of buttons on his robe, took it off and carefully folded it, setting it on a chair. He kept his back to Sirius, avoided looking at him, as he took off his white shirt, and folded that, and then his trousers and underpants. Sirius was again noticed how painfully thin the man was.

He slipped under the blankets and lay on his side, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Sirius heard him swallow, and then black eyes sought his out.

"Well?" he asked, his voice steady.

Sirius knew better than to answer, knew that unlike Snape's, his voice was sure to tremble. Under the covers, he reached out and put his hand on Snape's hip, feeling the bone under the soft skin. Slowly, keeping eye contact, he ran his hand down Snape's thigh, then up, dipping back to cup a buttock.

As he caressed, he also moved closer, until they were almost touching under the thin blanket, until he could feel the heat from Snape's body, until he shivered with anticipation, knowing that as soon as their cocks hardened and lengthened, they'd touch, through a will of their own.

He stilled his hand and leaned in, and a breath separated them.

"Why?" whispered Snape.

Sirius answered: "Lust."

They breathed together, the air hot between them, smelling of tea and yeast, and strawberries and honey, and Sirius closed his eyes against the incipient dizziness, as he felt his blood pool in his groin.

He dug his fingers into Snape's hip when, finally, he felt the hot satin of Snape's cock touch his and heard Snape quickly stifle a moan.

They both shifted, to gain more contact, and their bodies pressed together, and Sirius hooked a leg over Snape's. Then they kissed.

Molten fire ran from groin to lips, as hands gripped and the only sound was their erratic breathing.

He traced Snape's crooked teeth and welcomed Snape's tongue into his mouth. They rubbed their cocks together and moaned.

They pushed against each other, each trying to set the rhythm, neither yet able to read the other's reactions, and their movements were disorganised and frustrating. He was almost there... almost... his balls tightened and he wailed, and Snape stopped moving and the moment was lost and he wanted to whimper.

Sweat was running down his face tickling his nose, and he let go of Snape's hip and wiped the offending drop away. He looked at Snape, his mouth open, still attempting to find the friction he would need to come, and he leaned over and covered Snape's mouth with his.

He touched his own cock first, covering his hand with pre-come and then he wrapped his hand about both of them, and Snape moaned into Sirius' mouth.

The kiss took on the rhythm of Sirius' hand, as he worked at bringing them both to completion. He ran his thumb over the tip of Snape's cock, felt a spurt of pre-come, and smeared it over their cockheads, shivering with pleasure.

It was like pleasuring himself, only better.

Snape's hand had dropped to Sirius' arse, and he was kneading his flesh, Sirius felt his fingers in his crack, and his balls tingled with anticipation.

"All right?" he whispered and Sirius nodded. Snape didn't probe but gently ran a finger over Sirius' hole, just there, circling and he moaned and his hand sped up on their cocks, and Snape's finger continued its lazy, undemanding motion and Sirius heard both of them moan, they were no longer kissing, it was too much, much too much, and he flung his head back as he reached his climax, seconds before Snape did, and their cocks kept on pulsing, much longer than he thought was possible, and the smell of hot semen mingled with those of honey and yeast and their mouths came together once more, and their bodies pressed together, legs entwined.

As they slowly came down from the buzz of orgasm, their breathing slowed and the kisses became deeper, more exploring than passionate.

They drifted for a while, until Sirius gently extricated himself, hearing and feeling the stickiness between them give. He reached over for his wand, and cast a cleaning charm and rolled out of bed.

He didn't look at Snape as he found his underpants and put them on, then walked over to the cold bathroom to splash water on his face. His eyes were still tired... hell, he was tired, he'd not had enough sleep the night before. He grimaced. Going back to Grimmauld Place and dealing with Molly Weasley and all the children.

Snape was lying on his stomach, his head buried in his arms. Sirius took in the thin body, the dark hair spilling over the arm completely hiding his face and the Dark Mark Sirius knew was there, but had done his best to ignore. Then his heart skipped a beat. The birthmark, got him in such trouble the night before, pink against Snape's ivory skin.

He dropped the shirt he'd been about to put on, and went back over to the bed, straddling Snape's knees. The wizard made a sound of surprise and turned back to stare at Sirius who wasn't paying attention, because with the tip of his finger he was tracing the outline of the pale heart. He smiled to himself, it was sweet in a way nothing about Snape was sweet, not the crooked yellow teeth, or the slightly greasy hair, or the bitter lines around the mouth, or the always wary eyes. It was, he realised, like the unexpected honey smell that so intrigued him.

He leaned over and kissed the heart, then, wickedly, swiftly so as to quell protests, he grabbed Snape's cheeks, parted them, and licked, from the perineum over Snape's puckered hole, all the way to where the crease ran out, at the soft transition to back.

Snape tensed and started to speak: "What the..." but Sirius was licking again, slowly this time, running a tongue over the sensitive spot between balls and hole, then tracing the tight circle with his tongue. Snape's protest melted into moans, as Sirius continued to lick and then, gently, to probe.

He grabbed Snape by the hips and followed his rhythm as Snape rubbed his cock against the bed and pressed into Sirius' face, and Sirius pushed his tongue in deeper, breaching the ring of muscle, and he felt his own cock get harder and harder and noticed that he was peeking out of his boxers, its moist pink head wanting attention that he'd not be giving it right now.

He forced Snape to shift off the bed enough for Sirius to get a hand under him, he grabbed Snape's cock and pulled at it. Snape grunted "Good... oh so good... oh..." and Sirius continued, knowing Snape was getting closer and closer to coming. Then he heard different words in Snape's moans, stop and no, and he stilled his hand and gently pulled his tongue out of Snape's arse, feeling denied and disappointed, and Snape flipped over quickly and pulled Sirius to him, and he almost fell on top of the other man, and he understood what Snape wanted. He wiggled his boxers down and they were cock to cock and mouth to mouth and they moved together, fast then faster, both hearing their panting breath and the sound of their balls slapping together and then Snape came, his face a rictus of pleasure, a wordless wail coming from his mouth and Sirius thrilled at the sight and sound and ground into the other wizard again and again and again until he too came, his head thrown back, and he collapsed onto Snape and they lay there, spent, sweaty, come smeared between them, and their breathing slowed and somehow, the gentle undemanding feel of fingers on shoulder and back, the face buried in the crook of a lover's neck, the toes discovering other toes, became the core of the world, and they drifted.

Time passed, in the erratic way it does when you're half asleep and half awake. Lost in some, present in others, chunks of morning, then afternoon, until Sirius' stomach growled loudly enough to draw them both back and they stirred, both slightly embarrassed at having drooled, but also at having shared the intimacy of somnolence.

Snape looked down at his chest, then at Sirius, and spoke, his voice stiff and unemotional: "I think we need showers."

Sirius nodded, and decided that bravado was the best path: "Come on, I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine."

 

\----- ∞ -----

The water was lukewarm, the towels threadbare, and the soap almost straight lye, but it felt so good stand next to another human being, under the spray of water, and to run a soapy washcloth all over someone else's body. After years of filth, he never took cleanliness for granted and showering was pleasure in itself.

He was surprised that Snape let himself be washed, but catching a glimpse of the man's face, understood. Things had happened too fast, they'd torn into closeness so quickly that Snape did not know what to protect, how to preserve, where to pull back.

He was gentle on the birthmark and when Snape tried to pull his left arm away, Sirius stared him down and ran the washcloth over the Dark Mark. They both knew it was there and what it meant, and Sirius suspected that Snape viewed it with a horror even more profound than his own.

Snape let his forehead fall to Sirius' shoulder. They were silent for a while. Then Sirius knelt to wash calves and feet, ignoring Snape's protests and, nuzzled the pink cock once or twice, and it thickened and Snape swayed, and Sirius grabbed him, and slowly stood, still holding him.

"All right?" he asked, concerned.

"Dizzy, that's all," replied Snape, whose eyes were closed.

"You need something to eat."

He was about to wash himself quickly, but Snape took the washcloth and insisted that he was fine.

Sirius stood under the water and felt cared for the first time in many many years.

He sat on the toilet and watched as Snape shaved. "Again?" he asked, "You obviously shaved this morning."

Snape shrugged. His shaving soap smelled like lemon verbena and when he was done, Sirius kissed the smooth jawline and inhaled.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Neither spoke as they dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Snape immediately put on a kettle and Sirius smiled to himself. A true Brit, like Remus. Tea first and advienne que pourra.

"Can I help?" he asked, but Snape shook his head and continued to slice tomatoes and picked some leaves from one of the plants on the windowsill. Sirius watched, noticing the slender hands, and swallowed, thinking of those hands on his body, touching him. He sat down, wondering what had happened in that closet to have taken hatred and transformed it to lust.

Then, with sudden clarity and introspection he knew he wasn't always prone to, he realised that the true change had happened earlier, when, for the first time, he'd seen Snape in pain and felt empathy, as a dog and later as a man, rather than, at best, indifference.

"Come on," said Snape "and would you mind grabbing the chairs?" Sirius followed him through the back door to a small courtyard, bordered by cement walls but still sunny and with plants everywhere.

Tomatoes, already heavy with fruit, and peppers and strawberries. Peas. Flowers and lettuce, and herbs. Other greenery that he didn't recognise. There was a small metal table, and Snape set the tray he was carrying down, went back in and came out carrying the tea pot.

He saw Sirius staring. "My mother had a herb garden back here, all in pots, and after she died, I kept it up and expanded on it, I guess."

Sirius sat down, still looking around. "Bit early for tomatoes, isn't it?"

Snape smiled. "I... ummm... help them along. Pomona Sprout taught me a few tricks." He pointed his chin at the house on the right. "The woman who owns that house comes and checks things out for me, and I keep her in early tomatoes. She thinks it's because I get better sun."

They both laughed. Sirius realised that it was a first, sharing laughter. Usually, they'd laughed nastily at each other.

Sirius looked at the meal Snape was serving him: tomato salad with green basil and big, fat, black olives, and bread with toasted cheese. While Sirius watched, Snape picked some orange flowers and added them to a bowl of lettuce, drizzled on vinaigrette and tossed.

"Flowers?"

"Nasturiums. They taste peppery, we use the seeds in the Pepper-Up potion."

"Ah."

They ate and Sirius marvelled at the simplicity of the food and how good it was, like the omelette of the previous evening. Molly Weasley also prepared simple food, but hers was different. Just as good, but in a different way. He smiled to himself, realising that not long ago anything scrounged from a garbage can would have been called food.

"What?"

"What what?"

"You're smiling?"

"Just feeling... content. Best sex I've had in a while, tasty food, nice weather...." His voice trailed off and he hesitated: "Good company," he added.

He noted, somewhat surprised, that Snape had blushed.

Snape cleared their plates away. When he came back he went over to the strawberry plants, and leaned over to pick a few. Sirius came to stand next to him, and Snape handed him a berry.

He stared at it. Warm, a perfect green collar and the berry itself was bright red, shaped like a strawberry should be. He brought it to his face, and it smelled like the promise of summer.

Snape was looking at him quizzically and Sirius took the berry and brought to Snape's lips. The wizard's eyes widened in a second but he took a bite, his lips and tongue gentle. He sucked on Sirius' finger for a few seconds, before releasing it and Sirius knew all the blood in his body had rushed to his groin. He cupped Snape's face with his hand, but Snape had a berry and he fed it to Sirius, sweet and warm, as their breathing quickened and the warmth of the early summer afternoon surrounded them.

Their lips met, tasting of strawberry and desire, and they kissed, claiming each other's mouths, tongues dancing together. Sirius felt the sun on his head, on his shoulders, and he pulled Snape closer and reached down to cup the cock that was as hard as his own. Snape moaned and pressed into his hand, and Sirius smiled into the kiss, kissed Snape hard one more time and broke away.

He fell to his knees, lifted Snape's robes, and quickly undid his trousers, pulling them and Snape's underpants down.

"Black... what... Are you out of... Oh."

The "oh" was more a whoosh of breath coinciding with Sirius taking Snape's cock in his mouth.

He grabbed Snape's arse in his hands and worked to relax his throat muscles, to concentrate on the one thing in the world that mattered right now, Snape's cock, but also to ignore Snape's semi-incoherent babbling.

"Black... no... if anyone sees us... Black, we're outside... Bl... Oh. Oh... If... Mmmm.... oh! Please, yes... oh... "

He ran a tongue up and down Snape's cock, exploring, learning it in a way his hand hadn't taught him. He tasted Snape, revelled the aroma of honey and strawberries.

There was the pure mechanics, relaxing his throat, moving his tongue, rolling Snape's balls in one hand, applying suction, keeping his movements even and consistent. Anyone could do all that. But there was, too, the other things: the desire to please, the joy in hearing Snape's moans, the sly pleasure of licking Snape's slit and feeling him shudder, the small frisson of "naughty" of sex outside, in possible view of others, and all this he put into the blowjob.

He knew Snape was close, his balls were tight, his moans almost constant, his thrusts faster, when Snape tried to push him away, pull his cock out. "No... no... move, I'm going to come, move... oh... close..., please... no..." He held on, refused to let go, and looked up. Snape's was in a panic, afraid?

Quickly, he transferred Snape's cock to his hand, heard the groan, of both relief and frustration, he had been close. "Severus. Come in my mouth. Please. I want you to." With that, he swallowed Snape again, and heard his moan of satisfaction, and felt the thrill of bringing him back to the edge, then over, as Snape's come shot down his throat and he swallowed, and swallowed again and steadied Snape, holding his hips and gently sucked and licked until the pulsing stopped.

Still holding Snape, he stood and the other wizard collapsed onto him, and Sirius held him close, burying his face in Snape's hair and drinking in the smell. He quickly realised that if he let go, Snape would probably fall to the ground, and he smiled. He felt protective, and proud, and content with the warmth of the moment.

Slowly, Snape lifted his arms, that had been hanging by his side, and circled Sirius' waist. They stood there, in the embrace, until Sirius was sure Snape could stand on his own. He ran his fingers through Snape's hair, and eventually opened his mouth when Snape's lips sought out his.

Snape dropped his hand to Sirius' crotch, and Sirius pressed into it, his heartrate accelerating.

"We should go inside," murmured Snape, "I want to..."

Sirius laughed: "Later. We've an Order meeting in less than one hour and..."

Snape started, and quickly checked his watch. "I didn't realise it was this late. The day..." He pulled his clothes back on, looking around the other houses to check for an audience, Sirius supposed.

Sirius tipped his chin up and leaned over to kiss the other wizard: "The day slipped away."

The kiss spiralled out of control, tongues rough against each other, Sirius felt desire surge through him.

Reluctantly, he pulled away.

"I really should go," he said, "Molly will have wondered where I've been."

"Mmmmm..."

Snape wouldn't meet his eyes, and Sirius knew it was another of the awkward moments, like walking to the bedroom and undressing the first time.

"May I stop by tomorrow?" he asked.

Snape blurted: "You'd want to?"

Sirius smiled: "You think this is over?" He took Snape's hand in his, brought it to his mouth and kissed the palm. "It's not over, not by a long shot."

Snape shrugged, but didn't meet his eyes, and nodded.

 

\----- ∞ -----

 

**Part II**

"Sirius, where were you? I needed some help earlier and looked for you all over!" Molly Weasley's voice was shrill.

He sat down between Mundungus and Arthur Weasley. He knew Molly didn't like him, and probably he should have gone straight back to Grimmauld Place from Snape's, but he hadn't been able to resist a quick trip to Little Whinging. He'd not been able to spot Harry.

He added sugar to the mug of tea Molly had set in front of him, and smiled: "Oh, I spent the day with Snape. We were screwing our brains out."

Molly gasped, but she was the only one. There were two seconds of stunned silence, and a few stares at Snape, who was sitting, apparently petrified, then the laughter started, low at first, then rippled around the table, until even Molly Weasley was chuckling, though obviously trying to hide her mirth from Snape, who was the only one not amused.

"Pass me the biscuits, Bill?"

"Here you go... need to build your strength back up after all that fucking?"

Sirius grinned and took the plate, Molly tsked at Bill's language, and Albus Dumbledore shushed everyone and the meeting started.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Snape let him in, looking sleepy, and slightly dazed. They climbed the stairs to the bedroom, and Sirius, chattering lightly, proceeded to undress, tossing his clothes everywhere.

Snape, in a nightshirt, stood in the middle of the room looking confused.

"I was patrolling at Malfoy Manor with Podmore all evening... Saw you leave, by the way. He's not convinced you're on our side, suggested Dumbledore should ditch you. Told him there was no chance of that."

He kicked his underpants off and climbed into the bed. He looked at Snape, who was still standing.

"Well?"

"I..."

"Oh yeah, you probably weren't expecting me until tomorrow morning? Molly said she needed me to help Ron and Ginny get another bedroom cleared. I didn't want to disappear two days in a row."

He hopped out of bed, and walked over to Snape, taking him by the hand, leading him to the bed and finally lying down next to him.

"I can leave if you want?" he asked, softly.

Snape didn't answer for a long time. His eyes were closed and Sirius could see doubt and desire and fear and hope playing on his face.

Desire and hope won out. "Stay," he whispered, and Sirius leaned over for a kiss, "and next time, Apparate to the back courtyard and come straight in. It's safer that way."

They kissed for a long time, then Snape slithered down in the bed, and kissed Sirius' collar bone.

From there he explored, lips on neck and ear, on shoulder, tantalisingly close to a nipple, wandering off, then back, as Sirius panted.

He grimaced once, when the sleeve of Snape's nightshirt brushed against his stomach, the fabric was rough against his flushed skin.

When finally he felt Snape's hot mouth on his nipple, his wet tongue, the suction, he gasped and laid his hands on Snape's head, carding his fingers through the other wizard's hair, letting the small ember of pleasure radiate through his body.

Words spilled out his mouth, Severus, oh yes, there, harder, oh yeah, please, please, please, words interspaced by moans, by attempts to catch his breath.

He realised he was pulling Snape's hair and stilled, brought back to reality for an instant. Snape hadn't protested what had to be quite painful. He let go, and instead grabbed a sheet.

Snape's tongue in his belly button. It tickled and connected right to his groin. Then trailing down his stomach, and the feel of Snape's nose buried in his pubic hair, Snape's cheek brushing against his hard cock and he bit his lip to stop from crying out.

Fingers and thumb rolling a nipple in one hand, the other on Sirius' hip, steadying him, Snape explored. He ran his tongue along the crease between thigh and groin, then over to the hip bone, and back to Sirius' belly button. He was hard and Snape -deliberately, Sirius was sure- ignored his cock, except for occasional brush that seemed accidental.

Somehow, neglect became anticipation.

Words were useless and even his babble had deteriorated to moans.

The move wasn't sudden, but it wasn't hesitant or explorative: Snape took Sirius' cock in his mouth and Sirius stopped breathing, afraid that he was going to come right away, then took shallow breaths fighting to last a while longer.

He grabbed the sheets with both hands and dug his heels into the mattress and lay back, as Snape sucked him off, using his hand at the bottom of Sirius' shaft to work with his mouth and tongue and Sirius' world became the tongue that licked and pressed and delicately traced around the head of his cock, the mouth that sucked, perfect suction, and the lips that moved up and down, in concert with the hand.

He felt his balls tighten, and gasped: "Gonna... come..."

Snape didn't stop and palmed Sirius' balls firmly and Sirius felt the gigantic burst of come surge out of him.

Snape gagged. And coughed. And spat, and gagged some more. He managed to use his hand to help Sirius finish, but after left him, lying on the bed, and walked over to the window, still in his ridiculous nightshirt. He spoke, without turning around: "I'm sorry."

The lack of emotion in his voice chilled Sirius. He hesitated before standing up and going over to Snape.

"Don't apologise."

"I'm sorry," Snape repeated, "that was awful."

Sirius took a deep breath. He was pretty sure that Snape wouldn't hex him (and he didn't have his wand anyhow), but he also did not want to be rejected. He bit his lip and decided to risk it, and he circled Snape with his arms and leaned over to put his chin on Snape's shoulder.

"The summer I was twenty? I met a young woman, a Muggle. She... she was great, I really liked her and maybe it would have gotten serious." He paused remembering. "She was a doctor, you know, a Muggle healer? Very very bright, lots of fun, older than me. It was a first for me, finding someone who I was interested in who wasn't interested in me." He felt Snape tense and continued, "She just kept on ignoring me. I tried all my tricks and none of them worked. Finally, one evening, I persuaded her to come to bed with me. She'd said that she never had sex with men as young as me because, we tend to," he cleared his throat, "get overexcited and come too fast, and she needed some.... ummm... warming up. But I finally got her to agree, I told her I was totally in control, that I'd last until she was there, that I was the god of sex, right? We lay down on her bed, I'm just totally blown away by how beautiful she is and I said something like 'it's going to be a long night, sweetie, and I'll be up until you're happy' and she touched me, and I came all over her hand." He cringed.

Snape leaned into him and he interpreted that as comfort and took it as such.

"That must have been pretty bad."

"It was horrid, actually"

"What happened?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "I curled up in utter horror and shame, I thought for a second of just Apparating away, but then realised that the Ministry would not be happy with me." He heard Snape laugh softly, and he felt better. "She was very nice about it, actually. She said... she said that a good part of sex is learning about it, about each other, and about ourselves. That it never had to be perfect, but it should be honest and sincere." He kissed the nape of Snape's neck. "She said that learning to laugh together, to play together, was the best."

"What happened to her?"

Sirius sighed: "It was too hard. She didn't know I was a wizard, we were in the middle of a War." He felt Snape tense up again. "After a while, we drifted apart. It was fun while it lasted." He kissed the neck again. "Come back to bed."

Snape let himself be led back to bed and this time Sirius helped him take off his nightshirt. They lay under the covers for a while, not speaking, Sirius was spooned around Snape and gently running his hand on his hip and thigh.

"The thing is, we're here because, for whatever reason, we get off on each other. Normally, it's attempting to hurt or maim each other, right now, for whatever reason, it's getting our rocks off. Lust. What it is, really, is pleasurable for both of us. If you don't like swallowing, don't swallow. If you don't want me fucking you, or you don't want to fuck me, we won't go there..." He felt Snape's whole body tense as his last statement. "No matter. We're together because we're good together and there is no need to do anything that is not good."

"I wanted to swallow," said Snape abruptly. He flipped over to face Sirius. "I wanted you to come in my mouth."

"All right...."

"I didn't... I did not expect to have such a problem."

Sirius nodded slowly, seeking out Snape's eyes. "Tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"There is more to this than just having a bad gag reflex."

"There is."

"Then tell me."

Snape blinked. "It's a long, involved, messy story, and..."

"We have all night, Severus."

"But I've never..."

"Maybe it's time, now," he said, quietly, "to lance the wound and tell everything, to air all our dirty laundry, so to speak."

Snape was quiet for a while. "Not now. Not right yet. But maybe..."

Sirius was surprised at the small twinge of pain. Trust. Snape didn't trust him. Yet.

 

\----- ∞ -----

The lightening illuminated the figure in black running across the lawn towards him. Second later, Snape joined him in the bushes, both ignoring the fact that there were under a large tree in the middle of a flat lawn during an electric storm. It wasn't raining. That would break the oppressive heat and it seemed too much to hope for.

Somewhere in the forest surrounding Malfoy Manor, another bolt of lightening hit, and the two men stared at each other for a few seconds, before frantically grabbing for each other and kissing.

The electricity in the air, the wind whipping the tree branches above them, the almost quiet shelter of the tall rhododendrons surrounding them... Sirius closed his eyes, and deepened the kiss as they both fought to assuage their hunger.

When they finally pulled apart, reluctantly, Sirius shivered at the loss, already missing Snape's lips and the feel of his body, and... He pulled himself back from that train of thought.

"So?"

"He's here. They're staying with Malfoy for a few days, Narcissa and the boy are on the Continent. Black, he'll go out tomorrow morning, but not before then."

"Tomorrow?"

Snape nodded: "Down to the chicken coops, to get freshly laid eggs for the Dark Lord."

They looked at each other, and Sirius felt the laughter starting to bubble, he tried to hold it back and then they were both laughing.

"I see," said Sirius finally, "the Dark Lord must only have freshly laid eggs."

"From black chickens, maybe?" added Snape, and they both laughed some more.

"Shame we can't substitute a cockatrice egg," mulled Sirius, "that would solve a few problems. I'll come back then, maybe I can catch him."

"Be careful!"

"I will be. Don't break cover, all right? I'll be fine. And hopefully Peter will be caught."

Snape squeezed his hand. "Look, I'm stuck here tonight, not way to avoid that, and most of tomorrow. They know I have to go to the Order meeting tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow night, then, if not before?" asked Sirius, wincing at how long it would be.

Snape nodded. "After the meeting. My place?"

"I'll be there."

Holding hands, they kissed again, unconsciously rubbing at each other.

"Go now, stay safe. Patrol should be calm tonight, most everyone will be here."

"Does Dumbledore know?"

"Of course. But the damage would be too high, taking them on here, even with me inside. Now, go!"

"All right... I'm going."

Once again, mouths met, then Sirius carefully slipped away, back towards the Apparition boundaries that surrounded Malfoy Manor. Snape stood for a few minutes, his forehead against the tall tree, then he straightened his clothing and walked back towards the Manor.

Dumbledore let the Disillusionment charm slip. He looked, somewhat uselessly into the darkness, as the man in black walked back to the Manor. This was a complication they certainly didn't need.

As he too walked towards the Apparition boundaries, he admitted to himself that it was the first time he'd heard Snape really laugh.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"What happened?"

"I know, I know... Pettigrew angered the Dark Lord and was... unavailable this morning. I'm sorry."

He stared at Snape, wondering for a moment if he was really on their side, if his information was good. Snape seemed to sense his hesitation, his suspicion, and Sirius saw him wince, lower his eyes, and start to turn away. He remembered how upset he himself had been that Snape hadn't trusted him and he put his hand on Snape's arm.

"No matter. I'll get him next time."

He used his grip to pull Snape in closer and they kissed, speaking without words.

"Bed?" he asked eventually.

"Have you had dinner?"

"No, but I want you more than I want food." He felt Snape startle at his words and smiled into the kiss, before taking Snape's hand and leading him up the stairs.

Undressing, they talked. Never about things that could upset either of them, so the subjects were limited, but Sirius found himself more interested than he thought he'd be in Snape's garden, in magical theory. He also thrilled at discovering, over the few weeks after their affair began, that Snape had a dry sense of humour, and a keen eye for the ridiculous, and they laughed more than a few times at events from prior Order meetings.

Snape always took off his clothes slowly, methodically folding them and placing them on a chair. Sirius tossed his everywhere, and often had to search later on for a sock, or underpants. He liked crawling into Snape's narrow bed first, to be waiting for his lover.

Snape would join him, and they'd kiss, feeling each other out, for what would happen next, they'd tease, and tickle, and touch, and do all the things lovers do.

Snape had managed, though practice and Sirius' gentle encouragement, to eliminate his gag reflex and Sirius lay back on the pillows, running a hand through Snape's hair, as Snape sucked him, using his tongue, Sirius thought, in the most creative ways. He felt as Snape wet a finger and ran the top around Sirius' arsehole before pushing in. It hurt. It always did, at first, but after a while, the pleasure was worth it. He squirmed a bit and Snape laughed and the rumble around his cock made him spurt pre-come and Snape's wicked tongue swirled it around, still sucking, and his finger pressed up and found Sirius' prostate and white hot pleasure overwhelmed him, and coherent thought was lost.

After, he kissed Snape, tasting himself in the other man's mouth, and winced as Snape pulled his fingers out.

"I think," he said, with a slight grimace, "that we need to get some lube."

Snape tensed. Sirius continued: "I'll pick some up at the local chemist. Muggles..."

"Is that a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't want to be recognised..."

Sirius laughed: "You know, I'm not too afraid of Muggles right now." He flipped over on his side: "My hair is slightly shorter, it's clean and combed, no beard, I've gained 20 pounds, my clothes aren't in tatters..."

"Perhaps not," said Snape, "but most Muggle men don't wander around in... ahem... dresses."

Sirius grinned, and poked Snape in the stomach: "Not to worry, I do have some Muggle clothes. The thing is... I don't look like my WANTED! poster much anymore."

Snape hesitated, then put out a hand to cup Sirius' face, and ran his thumb over the cheekbone. "You're right, you don't. You look good."

The compliment hung in the air between them for a few seconds, then Sirius rolled out of bed, and started putting his clothes back on. "I have to go. See you tomorrow? I'll let myself out." He didn't want to admit, even to himself, how Snape's gentle touch and words had affected him.

Snape wouldn't meet his eyes, and just nodded, still.

Sirius quietly shut the bedroom door behind him, walked to the top of the stairs, then turned around and went back. Snape hadn't moved and Sirius couldn't see his face, but he leaned over and kissed him, running his fingers though Snape's hair, then pulled back: "Goodnight," he whispered.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He hadn't expected it. He quickly understood it was random, the boys were just London thugs. They'd followed him from the chemist's, and attacked in an alleyway near Grimmauld Place. Shoving his paper bag in the pocket of the leather jacket he was wearing, he fought back, kicking and punching, and it was only when one of them pulled a knife that he grabbed his wand, and cast a Stupefy. Leaving them there, he hurried back to Number 12, though his painful body made hurrying a relative term.

Molly dabbed a healing potion on his bruises and cleaned the cuts, while Moody, under his Invisibility Cloak, went out to check on the thugs. When he came back, he reported that they thought Sirius was a Martial Arts specialist, so he'd left them to their moaning and recovering.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He let it all run off of him, the concern, the scolding, the pain. He noted with surprise the worry in Snape's eyes, at the meeting that evening, and when nobody was looking, he mouthed "I'm fine." and Snape blinked slowly and Sirius saw him relax somewhat, or at least he appeared less tense.

The meeting adjourned, and as usual, Dumbledore and Snape left, Snape discretely touching Sirius' shoulder as he walked by him.

After dinner, he wanted one thing: for everyone to leave him alone so he could toss back a few glasses of Ogden's and, after everyone was asleep, slip out of the house, and get to Snape. He knew, somehow, that Snape would deal with him matter-of-factly, not fuss over him as Molly and Remus were doing, despite Arthur's admonishments.

He poured the amber liquid into his glass. Only the twins were still awake, he'd be able to leave soon, he hoped. He sipped. The warmth coursed down his throat, so his stomach. He sighed. He wanted Snape. Not just his body, but his presence, to tell him about what happened, to admit, even, to the overwhelming panic that had engulfed him when he realised he might be caught.

Though it would be hard to talk about fear to a man who seemed to not feel any.

Still, he waited, impatient for the twins to go to bed. He didn't expect, then, Albus Dumbledore to come into the kitchen and sit across from him at the table.

"So, Sirius...."

The voice was gentle, but he could hear the reproach in it. "I'm sorry, Albus. I should have paid more attention. I..."

Dumbledore raised a hand. "No, I know, I understand. You need to be careful, Sirius. Harry would be devastated if something happened to you, especially now."

He nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I'll pay more attention in the future."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I know you will. It's just that he knows how close you were to his father, and I believe he sees you as... as close to a parent as he's going to get."

Sirius smiled. "I know. I mean, I'll never be as good a dad as James would have been, but I'll do what I can."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, James and Lily would have been wonderful parents. Harry's life would have been so much better, if Voldemort hadn't heard that Prophecy."

They sat in silence, and Sirius poured Dumbledore a glass of Ogden's and refilled his own.

"So many things would have been different. Would Peter have betrayed us, if they hadn't courted him? Would Regulus still be alive? You certainly wouldn't have gone to Azkaban." He sighed. "Oh Sirius, I'm an old man, I see how things could have been, should have been, if Snape hadn't been there that evening."

"Snape? What?"

Dumbledore tensed. "Oh. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said...."

"You've said too little or too much. What do you mean, if Snape hadn't been there? Where?"

Dumbledore sighed deeply this time. "I suppose. Let me explain...."

He burst through the back door, slamming it into the wall so hard one of the window panes cracked. Snape, brewing something at the sink, looked up, grabbing his wand, but seeing Sirius, he relaxed and started to smile.

The sound of Sirius' fist on his cheek rang out. Snape hit the counter, stared, put his hand to his face, as Sirius hit him again and again and again. He grabbed him by his robes and sent him flying across the room, Snape hit the heavy kitchen table, and there was the sickening crack of a bone breaking.

Snape fell to the ground, curling up, and Sirius flung himself down, continuing to pound, grab, hearing the thud of fist against flesh, of head against flagstones. Blood on Snape's face, his eyes half closed.

And Sirius kept repeating "Murderer, murderer, murderer...."

He was going to kill him. He transformed into Padfoot, growled, saliva dripping, snarled. The flesh of Snape's neck in his mouth, he was going to rip his throat out, and watch him bleed to death there, on the floor, no pity, no remorse, he'd kill for the first time, to avenge his best friend, he'd kill like the animal he was, he'd sink his fangs into the neck...

He started to bite, felt the flesh give... and noticed that Snape was unafraid. The dog smelled pain, much of that, sweat, blood, and the herbs Snape had been using, and the usual smells of Snape, honey, and lemon verbena, but no fear.

He sat back on his haunches. Snape was about to die and yet, he felt no fear. Unsure of what this meant, or why it mattered, he transformed back and sat there, staring, for a few seconds.

He leaned over and spat in Snape's face. "Murderer," he hissed, before standing and leaving to Grimmauld Place.

It wasn't until late that night, sitting up in bed, unable to sleep that he finally asked himself why Snape hadn't fought back.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He glared at Snape the next evening, at the Order meeting. They were discussing surveillance details, making sure Harry was safe, and keeping track of Voldemort's whereabouts. Snape ignored him, contributing little to the discussion. When they adjourned, he turned to Dumbledore and spoke, quietly: "May I speak to you in private, Sir?"

Aha, thought Sirius. Snape was going to rat him out. Not that Sirius thought Dumbledore really cared. To his surprise, the previous evening, he'd gotten the strong impression that the Headmaster didn't really like Snape all that much. Trusted him, but didn't like him. As a result, Sirius felt confident that Dumbledore would take his side.

He followed them upstairs, careful not to be heard, and settled next to the drawing room door, pulling one of the twins' Extendable Ears out of his pocket.

"... I need some help, Sir."

"With what, Severus?"

"I... ummm... fell downstairs last night, and I think I've broken my arm. I've been unable to set it, or heal it."

"Let me see...." Silence for a while. "Yes, it's broken all right. You say you fell downstairs?"

"Yes, I... ummm... tripped in the dark."

"I see. Well, I'm going to have to set it, this is going to be painful."

"Yes, Sir."

He heard it, and it made his stomach clench, the small whimper, barely audible, and the snap of the bone being set back into place.

Then Dumbledore casting the spell to start the bone healing, and Snape, his voice tight, saying he'd take a bone mending potion as soon as he got home and thanking Dumbledore.

"Take something for the pain as well, Severus."

"I can't, Sir. I can't afford not to be clearheaded."

"Very well, Severus. Why don't you go?"

 

\----- ∞ -----

He was patrolling with Charlie Weasley now. He liked that. Charlie was alert, but not skittish, and he was willing to stop at a Muggle pub on the way home for a quick pint or two.

The third night, two young women approached them, sitting at their table. Sirius called out their drink orders, his heartrate accelerating.

Later when the two women went to the loo, he looked at Charlie: "So, you -ahem- up for this?"

Charlie shook his head. "Sorry, no. Not my thing, not my type, and certainly not tonight."

Sirius grinned. "Wet blanket! Oh well, I'll just have to take them both."

Charlie laughed. "Sometimes I just don't believe you, Sirius. I'll be going, then, before they get back." He winked. "Be good."

"Oh, I will. Really good. See you at breakfast."

 

\----- ∞ -----

Sirius ended up stumbling in about the time Molly got up, and she stared at him as he headed up the stairs, mumbling "Don't want breakfast, later...".

Molly Weasley shook her head and went to put on the kettle.

 

\----- ∞ -----

It was mid-afternoon before he made an appearance, and Molly glared at him, positive he was a bad influence, but he ignored her and helped Ron, Ginny, and Hermione with cleaning out the downstairs loo. It would be clean and safe, he thought, eradicating the bottom-nipper crabs from the toilet.

If one ignored the ghoul, of course.

 

\----- ∞ -----

They were all waiting on Kingsley and Arthur, who were late back from the Ministry, and Charlie. Dumbledore smiled pleasantly from the head of the table, Snape in his black travelling cloak, scowled at everyone from the other end.

Charlie came in, sat down, pointed at Sirius. "So they didn't kill you after all!"

"Almost!" he grinned back.

"Both of them?"

"Oh yeah. Heh."

"You are something else, Sirius, you know that?" laughed Bill Weasley, while Molly gaped and tried to usher the twins out.

"Hey, best sex I've had in a while," laughed Sirius and everyone at the table groaned and Molly opened her mouth to protest.

Bill laughed again. "Oh, I see. Snape wasn't good enough for you, eh?"

They all laughed now, remembering Sirius' quip of a few weeks back. Even Molly guffawed.

"Sex with the living dead isn't for me after all," he said with a smirk. He knew nobody actually thought he and Snape had had sex, and the opportunity to throw in a gratuitous insult was too good to pass up.

Everyone laughed again, except Dumbledore and Snape, whose face was impassive.

"So, you're going to see those gals again?" asked Charlie, "They were rather cute."

Sirius shook his head. "The blonde, alas, is heading back to Sweden. The brunette, I'll see tomorrow. She has a friend, a tiny gal from Asia, she says, who'd love to take me on. Has some exotic tricks, it seems." He quirked an eyebrow and everyone laughed again, his roguish attitude irresistible.

As it had always been, though Dumbledore, sourly. He was going to have to talk to Sirius, and soon.

 

\----- ∞ -----

".... What did you say?"

"I said," repeated Albus Dumbledore, "that I don't want you leaving Grimmauld Place any longer. It's not safe and..."

"But..."

Dumbledore raised a hand. "No, don't bother. If you want to protect your godson, you'll do as I say."

 

\----- ∞ -----

Depression grabbed at him almost right away, and bitterness, corrosive as acid, ate at him. Hearing everyone else's reports, listening to them talk of what was happening out there. It had been three days, and he knew he was going mad, that he'd not survive this confinement.

The worst was remembering the contempt on Snape's face when Dumbledore had announced Sirius' imprisonment to the other Order members.

He liked having Harry around. It felt good, helped push back insanity.

 

\----- ∞ -----

A small ashamed part of him hoped that Harry would be expelled from Hogwarts. He knew that this was wrong.

 

\----- ∞ -----

They left. Harry, and all the young ones. With the need to protect Harry lessened, there were fewer Order meetings. The elder Weasleys moved back to the Burrow. Only Remus stayed, and even he wasn't there all the time.

 

\----- ∞ -----

 

**Part III**  
  
He knew he was drifting towards insanity, or something very much like it. He thought the house was killing him, the walls coming closer and closer, ceiling and floor meeting.

He stopped bathing. He wasn't sure there hadn't been an enchantment put on the bathtub. He tried showering once or twice, but it reminded him of Snape and he stopped. He still managed to shave once a week or so. A beard reminded him too much of Azkaban, but he hated the bother of shaving, so he'd let it grow, promising himself he'd get over it this time, but ended up shaving in the end, then...

Remus came back for a few days, and it was worse than being alone. Remus was concerned and it made Sirius jumpy. He was relieved when Remus left again.

Molly brought food over and he ate when he remembered to. He knew he was losing weight, he didn't care.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He startled, almost upsetting the glass of Odgen's he'd been holding as he sat at the kitchen table. It was late, or rather early. Someone came running down the stairs and burst into the kitchen.

Snape.

"Where's Lupin?"

"Fuck you."

"Not now, Black. Where's Lupin?"

Sirius shrugged, but didn't answer. Snape walked closer, grabbed him by the shoulder. "Where is Lupin?" he repeated enunciating each word.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Out." He took a sip of Ogden's. "And before you ask, no, he won't be back tonight."

"Shit," said Snape, and he looked concerned, "Very well." He turned to leave, hesitated then stopped at the door, took a small vial out of an inside pocket of his cloak and tossed it at Sirius. "Take this."

"Like fuck I will. What is it?"

"A sobering potion, you moron."

He hesitated but drank it down.

He felt as if the blood in his veins had turned to ice, and he gagged.

"I need you. Come on."

He stared at Snape. "Remember? I'm on house arrest, and if I come with you and get caught..."

"If you don't come with me, two kids are going to get killed."

He followed Snape upstairs, grabbed a random cloak from the peg by the front door (it turned out to have been a spare one of Charlie's, the pockets were full of empty vials of burn ointment, and it smelled of sulphur.)

Snape grabbed his forearms, and they Disapparated.

 

\----- ∞ -----

The area was bathed in green light. Snape pointed upwards and Sirius' stomach lurched. The Dark Mark. He followed Snape, as quiet as possible.

Six Death Eaters, in white masks. Two teens, obviously Muggles, a boy and a girl, naked. The boy was screaming, as one of the Death Eaters subjected him to a Cruciatis, and the girl was hanging upside down, spinning slowly. He felt sick.

Snape put a hand on his arm, and they moved away, further into the forest. Snape leaned over close and spoke right against his ear. "We can't take them on directly, and if they recognise me, I'm done for. Do you know how to cast a Disillusionment charm?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, but my dog form..."

"Hummm.... Too risky. Listen, I'm going make myself invisible, and go over and disrupt their little party. It shouldn't be too hard to get them to run. Get the kids away and hide, I'll find you."

"That's your plan?" he whispered.

"You have a better one?" Snape hissed back.

"No, but..."

"I'm going." He took two steps then moved back and leaned over again. "Be careful. No matter what, don't get yourself caught."

He walked to the edge of the clearing, and Sirius could just see his outline by the greenish light of the Dark Mark. Snape cast something quickly, and a red and gold light overcame the green, and his eyes took a second to adapt, and during that second Snape cast his Disillusionment charm.

He looked up, and the Dark Mark had disappeared, replaced by a simply enormous red and gold phoenix and Sirius couldn't help gaping in awe.

He saw the Death Eaters scatter and heard one of them scream "This way!" and they all ran off, as Snape had predicted, leaving the two teens in the clearing. Sirius ran towards them, seeing the girl fall to the ground.

Somehow, he got them to move, the girl's shoulder was hurt, the boy totally out of this mind from the pain. Holding the boy, telling the girl to follow, they made their way into the forest, and eventually hid in a small thicket under a tree.

The boy slumped against the trunk, his knees pulled up against him and he started to cry. The young girl was trembling, staring at Sirius, scared.

"It's all right, we're going to help you..."

"What was? I don't..."

"Shh...." he said soothingly.

He took off his cloak and used it to cover both of them as best as possible, the night was warm, but he wasn't sure they weren't both in shock.

He heard noises. He quickly transformed into Padfoot and the girl gave a small gasp of fear. The dog sniffed the air, it was most definitely Snape.

He transformed back and used his wand to send purple sparks up, not too high. Snape was there in seconds.

"How are they?"

"Scared but alive."

The boy was still crying.

"Shall we move them?" he asked.

Snape shook his head. "We can't bring them back to... Headquarters. I could, I suppose, bring them to Hogwarts, but the less Dumbledore knows, the better."

The girl was staring at them, and Snape looked at her. "You are all right?"

"What **are** you?"

He gave a sort of smile. "Don't worry about that. You're safe now." He looked at Sirius. "Stay here with them a few more minutes, I'll go get their clothes and make sure the others have gone."

 

\----- ∞ -----

Eventually, they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place. They'd helped the two teens, gotten them dressed and healed, then Snape had spent a while Obliviating them, before leaving them just before dawn, on their blanket, asleep and again naked. Snape had looked as Sirius and shrugged and said that the worse would be that they'd wake up and wonder why they'd fallen asleep when they'd been planning on having sex.

"Tea?" Sirius asked, and Snape nodded, he looked tired. "Do you have to be back at school?"

Snape shot him an odd look. "It's Sunday."

"Oh." He wasn't even keeping track of days anymore.

He poured the tea, and without thinking, added milk, and handed it to Snape.

"That was some phoenix," he said.

Snape nodded. "I know. I wasn't sure I could do it."

"Well, it certainly scared them."

"I suppose they thought there were multiple Order members."

"Will they suspect you?"

Snape shook his head. "No, they didn't know I was there in the first place." He took a sip of tea. "I left the meeting right behind them, and just happened to stumble upon their little event."

"Would they have killed them?"

Snape shrugged. "I don't know. I think so... and if not, they would have hurt them as much as possible, damaged them, I suppose. They... they were just kids, having a bit of fun on a Saturday night."

They finished their tea in silence.

Sirius stood, and washed their cups. His back to Snape, he spoke, slowly.

"I'm going to bed."

He heard Snape stand, slowly. "Thank you for the help, Black."

"You're welcome. Care to join me?"

Sirius busied himself at the sink, his heart beating, not sure of Snape's response, or even if there would be one. He wrung out the dishrag, scrubbed a small spot on the counter, rinsed and wrung out the dishrag again. He turned.

Snape was staring at the table, he'd not moved. Sirius took a deep breath, and slowly walked towards the door, passing within inches of Snape. He could hear the other wizard's breathing, smelled honey and lemon verbena.

Snape followed, and Sirius felt... relief and something akin to happiness, or at the very least contentment.

 

\----- ∞ -----

It wasn't until they reached the landing that the smell hit him. Rotting meat, from Buckbeak, but also human filth. He thought of Snape's almost sterile environment and he cringed. Unwashed man, dirty socks, he'd not changed the linens on the bed in... what? Since Albus had confined him to the house, over two months ago. He smelled the firewisky that he'd spilled, in a drunken stumble, a few weeks back, smelled also the lingering stench of vomit from another drunken evening.

He didn't want calculate how long it had been since he'd washed himself.

He stopped, and Snape bumped into him. He turned. "Maybe this is a bad idea," he said, his face burning in shame.

Snape shrugged, and walked around him, into the bedroom. He flicked on the lights.

Sirius looked around, seeing the room with fresh eyes and his stomach roiled. Snape said nothing. He cleared an armchair, tossing the dirty clothes onto a pile in the middle of the floor, and put down his cloak. Then, without fuss, he walked over the bed, and started stripping the sheets. He spoke while he worked.

"So you know it's my fault Lily and Potter were killed? I take it Dumbledore told you?" Without waiting for a response, his voice even, he told his story to Sirius, while they cleaned the bedroom, changed the linens, washed the floors, and then moved to the bathroom and did the same.

When they were done, Sirius called Kreacher and told him to take the laundry away, and not to speak of any of this to anyone. Snape ran a bath, and dumped a vial of some potion in it, and Sirius climbed in the water, and closed his eyes.

So much pain, to Snape's story of guilt and remorse. So much that Sirius understood, felt along with him. Some things he'd guessed, like Snape's love for Lily, some he hadn't, like Snape's open admission that it was Lily's love he was ever hoping for, not just sex, but love. Some hurt, like Snape's admitting that he knew Dumbledore really didn't like him, and some angered him, like Snape's feelings about Harry.

Sirius spoke too, as Snape played gently with the bath water, and he soaked off the grime of the previous few months. He spoke of his own guilt and remorse, of his fear, of how scared and lonely he had been.

They spoke a lot about that, loneliness.

Snape told Sirius, too, of being given to Bellatrix Lestrange as a sex toy, to prove to the Dark Lord that he didn't really care about Lily Potter. He told him of the Lestrange brothers watching while he has sexual relations with Bellatrix, and how after, they'd have him suck them off, but would never come in his mouth. Because, he explained, if they came in his mouth, he'd be able to swallow, get up and leave. With come all over his face and hair, he needed to stay, to find a washcloth, and they could humiliate him just a tiny bit more.

That explained, though Sirius watching Snape's index finger cut through the water, why Snape was so damn good at blowjobs, but hadn't known what to expect when Sirius came in his mouth.

And that was all it took... the recollection of Snape's mouth, his tongue, his hands... Sirius felt his cock get hard in the bath water and closed his eyes.

Snape washed his hair and Sirius floated, the strong fingers on his scalp, the pleasure of cleanliness, of being touched.

A towel around his waist, he stood in front of the mirror. He rubbed his chin, looked at Snape who was perched on the toilet.

"Shave? Or not?"

Snape opened his mouth, then blushed, his ivory skin pink, and he wouldn't meet Sirius' eyes as he shrugged.

"What?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're redder than a lobster, Snape. All I asked is if I should shave or not, and you've blushed like a virgin on his wedding night. Spit it out."

Snape bit his lip, turned away, and Sirius had to strain to hear him: "I think it would be better if you shaved."

"All right. Why the blush then?"

Snape stammered, still not looking at Sirius. "I... I was presuming that... we'd be... ummm... and last summer... I got... ummm... and with school..."

"Snape. That made no sense. We've just talked about your selling your soul to Voldemort, surely you can tell me why you prefer me to shave."

He heard Snape gulp. "When you don't shave, I get... whisker burn. Which I didn't mind in the summer, but with teaching... I'm sorry. I'm presuming that if you asked me up here, you did want to resume..." He bogged down again, and Sirius felt like laughing.

Surprised at the tenderness he was feeling, he leaned over, tipped Snape's face up, and kissed him.

When he pulled back, the towel around his waist left no doubt that the kiss had affected him. "I'll shave," he said, "I'd not want you to be concerned that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were staring at you wondering who your lover is..."

Snape groaned, and blushed an even deeper red, and Sirius laughed, and kissed him again.

It was hard and fast, and they never did make it to the bed. Sirius was already naked, but they both tore at Snape's clothes, and ground their cocks together, tongues thrusting, biting, drinking each other. Then hands, not gentle but strong and slippery and hard, then, finally, groaning into each other's mouths, orgasm, better for being shared, for the honesty, for the admissions, for the caring.

After they lay on the bed, sleepy, and drifting. Sirius marvelled at the pleasure of being clean, of clean sheets, a clean room, and wondered if it would help stave off the demons.

"Feels good," he said, kissing Snape's neck, and Snape rolled over, to sleepily claim a mouth, and they started again, the slow dance that began with kisses and caresses, with tongues and nipples, and that would eventually spiral and crest and leave them spent, and content.

"Remember," panted Sirius, "that last time we... were together, we talked about... needing lube if we... wanted to go... any... further?"

"Mmmm... yes," murmured Snape, looking up from the nipple he was teasing with his tongue, and a finger exerting gentle pressure on Sirius' arsehole. "How could I forget? The stupid lube almost got you killed."

"It wasn't that bad..." said Sirius.

Snape shook his head. "Yes it was, you should have seen yourself. It was frightening." He dipped his head. Sirius felt teeth gently on his nipple and moaned.

"In the... drawer, 'kay?"

He felt the hard slender length of Snape's body against his as he stretched to reach the drawer. The tube was still in the brown paper bag he'd shoved in his pocket all those months before.

As Snape fumbled with bag and carton, Sirius pressed his body against Snape's and searched for the words. They'd not spoken of the summer evening when he'd gone to Snape's home with the intent to kill, and he knew he needed to.

Finally he settled on the simplest thing. "I'm sorry," he said, running his finger along Snape's arm, the one he'd broken in his rage.

Snape looked up from the tube he was staring at. "No need.... Remember what happened when I found you, thinking, believing, that you'd been their Secret Keeper? I tried to send you to the Dementors. You at least were going to finish me yourself."

Their eyes met, and held, and Sirius spoke softly: "We both share that guilt and will forever. I may not be able to forgive me, Severus, but it is time for me to forgive you."

He didn't dare hope, but Snape's response came. "And for me to forgive you."

They were quiet, just holding each other for a long time. Sex was forgotten for an intimacy of a different sort.

Later both of them would pinpoint that moment as the time it went from sex and lust to most definitely something else, though neither admitted it for the longest time.

Afternoon sun was filtering through the windows when Snape sighed, and sat up. "I must think about getting back?"

"Will they have missed you?"

"Dumbledore knows that sometimes if I don't anything to report, I go back to Spinner's End after the meetings, so I don't think he will. Still, I should make an appearance at dinner."

"Ah."

"I... Do you want me to come back?"

Sirius stared. He realised, yet again, that Snape was not, and maybe never would be, secure. "I do. I very much do." He ran a hand down Snape's long back, feeling each vertebra, and leaned over to kiss a shoulder. "I want you, you want me. It's as simple as that."

Snape sighed. "Or as complicated."

Sirius sat and asked slowly: "Why complicated? Lust is simple. It feels good."

Snape shrugged, and Sirius reached out to touch a thin shoulder. "As long as we both want this, please come back when you can."

Snape nodded and stood, slowly. He wobbled on his feet. Sirius sprang up, none too steady himself. "Damn... I've got to feed you before sex, or one of these days you're going to pass out on me."

They stood for a few moments. "Will you be able to walk up to the castle?" asked Sirius, worried.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Perhaps not. I'll stagger around, wander into the Forbidden Forest, and I won't be found until Hagrid stumbles on me."

"Or maybe never, if some nasty beast finds you first."

"That is a possibility. But then again... maybe one of the centaurs will happen upon me, and I won't want to be found."

Sirius stared at him, and Snape arched an eyebrow. "Firenze is very handsome, you know. Azem is as well. They look down on us men, but..."

Sirius poked him in the shoulder. "You pervert," he said, and they both laughed. It felt good, laughing with Snape.

"You wouldn't, right?" he asked.

Snape winked. "Even if I would, they wouldn't, so it's an academic point anyhow."

"Great," whined Sirius, "not only do I have to worry about you lusting over Flitwick and Hagrid, but half the Centaurs as well."

It was easy banter, and they continued as they walked downstairs.

"Goodbye, then." Snape's voice was quiet, now.

"Sure you don't want anything to eat?"

Snape shook his head. "I'll be fine. Take care, all right?"

Sirius nodded. "You too. And hey, feel free to come get me if you need me again."

As Snape slipped outside, Sirius called after him. "You can always Apparate straight to my bedroom." He grimaced. "Nobody but me will be in it."

Snape laughed lightly, nodded and left. Sirius went down to the kitchen, put on a kettle for tea and scrounged around for some food. He hadn't been hungry in a long time.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"You came back," he said walking into his bedroom.

Snape was sitting on the bed, reading. He stood quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know if someone else was here, and didn't want to..."

Sirius cut him off, closing the distance between them. He took the book out of Snape's hands, put it on the bedside table, and hooked an arm around Snape's waist, pulling him close, and they kissed.

As he felt Snape's tongue against his, he wondered why kissing Snape was better than kissing anyone else had ever been.

Clothes fell to the floor this time, both of them in a hurry to get to skin and when Sirius planed his hand on Snape's back, shivers ran up and down his spine. He inhaled the honey smell of Snape's skin and moaned softly.

On the bed, he leaned over and whispered into Snape's ear. "I still have that lube that we never got to use..." Snape tensed slightly, and Sirius continued: "And I want you to fuck me."

He knew it was one of the awkward moments again, negotiating who did what and how, and positions, and trust. He swallowed, nervous despite himself, yet confident that they could navigate the rapids.

He closed his eyes, at first, and let his other senses take over.

Snape's left hand was firm on his shoulder, providing an anchor Sirius was grateful for. He felt Snape's mouth on his neck, his breath hot, his lips leaving a trail of fire down his shoulder, to his nipples, first one, then the other, and Sirius moaned. Snape's mouth didn't move, and the tongue that was grazing his nipple was warm and wet and Sirius concentrated on that, until he felt Snape's right hand on his cock and he bit his lips to keep from coming then and there.

He ran his fingers through Snape's hair, fine and always slightly greasy at the end of the day.

He murmured words of encouragement, and helped Snape get some lube on his fingers then he fell back on the pillows, spread his legs wider, and tried to relax as Snape's slippery finger breached his body.

This, they'd done before, he knew Snape knew what to do, he let himself drift on the wave of pleasure. Two fingers, then three, and he was babbling now, moaning, begging.

He took the lube and warmed some in his hand, and then coated Snape's cock with it. Their voices were quiet as they figured out positions and legs and pillows and then Sirius willed himself to relax as Snape's cock pressed at his entrance. He knew Snape hadn't expected the pressure he'd need to finally penetrate Sirius, and he kept on repeating "Good, this is good."

He flashed back to his first time in Snape's position, with a blond Muggle whose name he didn't remember.

Then Snape filled him and pure physical bliss became reality.

Snape's strokes were chaotic, his breathing erratic, and Sirius opened his eyes to see the look of intense concentration. Then Snape shifted slightly and his cock nudged Sirius' prostate and Sirius' eyes closed again.

"Not.... going... last..." grunted Snape, thrusting and Sirius grabbed his own cock and pumped furiously, trying to match Snape's rhythm, and as he came, he dug his nails into Snape's shoulder and he groaned, and felt Snape's body tense and the warmth of his come, heard his moan and he held on to his lover as they drifted down together.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Do you want breakfast?" He looked at the time and grimaced. "Or whatever you want to call food at 3AM."

Snape shook his head, and kissed Sirius' shoulder. "No. I need to get back well before dawn."

"Does Dumbledore... know you're here?"

"Of course not. I slipped out. I could explain to the Headmaster that there was something I must do, but TTT? Not likely to..."

"TTT?"

"Umbridge. The Terrorist Toad. I call her that. The Headmaster.... what?"

Sirius was laughing. "The Terrorist Toad? Oh! Oh! That's good..."

"Well, it's also pretty accurate. She's frightening and nasty." He buttoned his trousers, "Black? Potter... she hates him..."

"So do you."

Snape's voice was very quiet. "I may hate him, but I will never harm him, Black. Ever. I'll do my best to keep his safe. She will not."

"What are you saying?"

Snape shrugged. "I think she has her own agenda, I'm pretty sure she isn't working with the Dark Lord. But she is dangerous. Make sure he lies low."

"Lies low? He needs to defy her, make her life miserable..."

"No!" Snape interrupted. "That's too dangerous. He needs to keep out of her way..."

"That's what cowards do." Sirius' voice was sharp.

Snape looked straight at him. "Then I am a coward."

Sirius shook his head. "No, you are not. You're not afraid of anything."

Snape was playing with the buttons on his robe. "I am afraid of things. Just not the ones you'd expect," he said quietly. "Umbridge is dangerous, she could harm Potter. He needs to tread lightly."

They were both sitting at the edge of the bed, thighs touching, and Sirius took Snape's hand. "I'll talk to him at some point," he said, "I'll warn him."

Snape nodded.

It felt good, Sirius thought, just to sit there for a while. He was pleasantly sore and content, and warm.

Much later, Snape left. He promised he'd be back. Sirius crawled into his bed, admitting to himself that he'd be waiting.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Wake up!" He opened one eye. Snape was leaning over him, his cloak on. Morning light streamed through the windows and he groaned. He'd been up much too late the previous night, drinking alone.

"Wake up!" Snape said again, and this time he slipped his hand under the covers and laid it on Sirius' back.

The hand was freezing. Sirius yelped and flipped over, grabbed Snape and pulled him down, and kissed the thin cold lips.

The cloak impeded things slightly, but it was soon thrown to the floor and Snape's clothes discarded, and when Snape got his chilled hand around both of their cocks, Sirius gasped at the contradictory sensations of heat and cold.

Snape said it as he came, his dark, silken words thrilling Sirius, in the final heartbeat before orgasm, and he thrust into Snape's slippery hand, a sob in his throat.

Later, when Snape said: "We need to clean up, Black," he just smiled to himself, because he had heard it: the soft sibilants of "Sirius! Oh Sirius!" had escaped Snape's mouth, the first time he'd used Sirius' name.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Come on, get dressed!"

Sirius sat up. Snape had cleaned them up, gotten back into his clothes and was waiting impatiently.

"What is the hurry? Get dressed so we can tear my robes off in an hour?"

Snape leaned over and poked him in the shoulder. "No. We're going to my place. Lupin is in Scandinavia somewhere, right?"

"Yeeees?"

"So there is nobody to know that you aren't here. Get dressed. I'm putting my garden to bed and I can use the help."

 

\----- ∞ -----

He sat back on his heels and leaned back, his hands at his hips. "This is hard work!" he whined.

Snape looked up from the plant he was pruning almost to the ground. "Wimp!" he said, but he was smiling, "Few more minutes and we can take a break for lunch."

The autumn afternoon was warm enough for them to eat outside in the sun, and Sirius revelled in it. The smell of dirt, of the herbs and plants, the crisp clear air. And the sunshine. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, not moving even as he heard Snape set a tray down.

A shadow in front of him, then Snape's lips on his, soft and giving.

When he opened his eyes, Snape was sitting, a slight smile on his face. He grinned back. "Thank you. This is... wonderful. Just being outside again."

Snape nodded. "I figured. And no, before you ask, I did not clear this with the Headmaster."

Sirius shrugged. "Oh well... Mmmm... omelette."

They spoke as they ate, Sirius hungry for news of Harry. He wished Snape and Harry would get along. But then again, he reflected, taking a bite of warm stewed apples, it was only, really, because he and Snape had come together for sex that they'd been able to build a friendship.

He paused, his spoon half way to his mouth. Friendship. At the very least.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"There. Almost done. I just need to clean up this bit and we should be done." He smiled at Sirius. "Don't worry, the strawberries will come back, I promise."

Sirius was starting dubiously at the dirt. "If you say so."

"I promise. In early July, at the latest. But if you want, I can bring you back when I get things ready for Spring, and you'll see them growing for yourself."

He shot a quick glance at Snape who was pulling some dead plants. "I'd like that."

He leaned over to help.

"Watch out!" said Snape, pulling his hand back. "Those can burn."

"Oh?"

Snape nodded, and Sirius noted he was wearing gloves. "Pennyroyal."

"What stinks?"

"The rue. Over there."

"And that one? It at least smells good?"

"Angelica." He appeared to hesitate. "It was my mother's herbal garden."

"She was a witch, right?"

"Yeah, went to Hogwarts. My father was a Muggle."

"They're both dead?"

Snape nodded slowly. "She finally killed him, then killed herself. I was in 6th year."

"Oh. I'm sorry. That must have been... difficult."

Snape shrugged. "Neither of them ever loved or liked me." He inclined his chin towards the herbs. "You don't recognise most of these, do you?"

Sirius looked at him. "No," he answered, "should I?"

"Angelica, rue, pennyroyal," he pointed at two other pots, "tansy and parsley. She made herbal tinctures for Muggles, to help them terminate their pregnancies, and potions for witches as well. I still brew them, for witches in need."

"Oh."

Snape nodded. "It was the first potion she taught me to make. It was the same as the one for Muggles, only adding powered golden toad skin makes it much more effective. Every single time we brewed it, she'd tell me how she'd tried to abort me."

He looked at Sirius whose jaw had dropped. "I wasn't a wanted child, to say the least." His smile was bitter. "If I hadn't been born, she probably would have left my father, and been happier. Because of me, she was stuck." His voice took on a dreamy quality as he continued. "Sometimes, I wonder what the world would have been like if I hadn't been born. If I hadn't existed at all. It's a much better world, that one. Lily is alive, of course. She did marry Potter and have his kid, but she's alive and happy. You never went to Azkaban. Peter Pettigrew is still your friend, and Hogwarts students love their pretty potions teacher, Professor Evans. And..."

Sirius cut him off. "And Voldemort," Snape flinched, "has risen, unstopped. The wizarding world lives in fear, under his dominion, never having had the 15 years of peace that Lily's sacrifice brought us." He looked at Snape, staring at him. "He gave Lily a choice because of you, Severus, and because she had a choice, we have a relative peace now. It was dearly bought, but all the more precious."

"You can't separate things out like that," he continued, "Just saying 'if I hadn't been born, all this wouldn't have happened' is silly. Because one of the reasons James wanted Lily so badly was because she was your friend, and he wanted to take her from you. One of the reasons James, Remus, Peter, and I became such good friends was because we all detested you. You can't just take yourself out of the equation and think that all the bad you've done goes away... what about the good?"

"Good? I've not done anything good, ever. I've not made a single person happy, not done..."

Sirius reached out and touched Snape's forearm. "You've made me happy. You've given me back a lease on life, something to look forward to."

"I...."

Sirius stood, stretched out his back. The garden looked so small now, the cement walls close in, sad in some ways, but he remembered how it had looked the previous summer, and the smell of strawberries. He held and hand out to Snape, helped him stand. "Come on, blast the pile of dead stuff there, or compost it, or whatever, and let's get to bed."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Bed? Is that all you think about?"

"Around you, apparently. Oh, food too."

"Lust and gluttony? Aren't those deadly sins or something?"

"You bet. But that's all right, because they are also life affirming." He slipped an arm around Snape. "Since you came back... I think I can make it." He swallowed. "At some point, someone will get Pettigrew..."

Snape let his head rest on Sirius' shoulder. "You know I can't... if I could, I..."

"I do know."

Snape sighed. "You're right. Let's go to bed."

 

\----- ∞ -----

In the small kitchen, Snape set the kettle to boil and filled a teapot with various dried bits that didn't, Sirius thought, look much like the Darjeeling he usually brewed.

"What's that?" he asked.

Snape blushed, leaned over and whispered something in his ear and Sirius laughed. "You're not joking? Wow. And that easy?"

"Easy is relative," said Snape, pouring boiling water, "in that too much of this or that could leave one with an erection lasting four hours or more..."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "You say that like it's a bad thing? Do you know how many afternoons I spend in Grimmauld Place with nothing to do?"

"Well, it could be painful..."

"Trust me, my cock..."

"I was thinking about the blisters on your hand."

Sirius howled with laughter.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He stretched out next to Snape on the bed, his body pressed to the other wizard's. His cock, already more than half hard, was nestled against the crack of Snape's arse and the warmth felt good. He ran his hand down Snape's side, touching, revelling in the feel of skin over muscle and bone. He buried his nose in the nape of Snape's neck, and closed his eyes as he drank in the smells of honey and lemon verbena. As he planed his hand over Snape's chest, a stray thumb gently running over a nipple, over Snape's stomach, his shoulder, he heard Snape's breathing accelerate and his own cock hardened and he pushed it in closer to Snape's body, dropped his hand to Snape's cock and they rocked to the rhythm Sirius set.

He whimpered when Snape pulled away, to grab something from the bedside table. Snape pressed a small vial in his hand, and murmured: "Lubricant", as he pulled one leg up, exposing his arsehole.

Sirius started to tremble, leaned over and whispered in Snape's ear: "You sure?"

"Mmmmmm...." said Snape, as Sirius kissed his ear, his neck, his shoulder, and he continued to make content sounds as Sirius kissed his back, slowly making his way down Snape's body. His final kiss was to the pink heart-shaped birthmark, and then he traced it with the tip of his tongue, then the tip of a finger.

"I love that heart... just love it..." he murmured. He heard Snape snort, then sigh as Sirius ran a firm finger around his hole, pressing, but not intrusive... yet. He poured some lube on his fingers. It felt silken, and smelled of amber and musk. When he pressed again at Snape's hole, he felt it give and his finger slipped inside, without any telltale tensing from Snape, and he realised that the lube probably had more to it than anything produced in a Muggle pharmacy. He smiled to himself and let his finger go deeper, widening, stretching, and he quickly slipped a second one in.

Snape moaned softly, then gasped as Sirius hit his prostate. Sirius smiled to himself, and continued, gentle and purposeful, to prepare his lover.

When he finally breached Snape's arsehole with his cock, his breathing shallow, he knew the lube and tea Snape had brewed were going to make this even better, if possible.

Snape hadn't done this before, and Sirius wanted to take him as far as pleasure would go, push it to its limits and leave them both adrift in a sea of sensations.

And yet, when he found himself there, his cock buried deep in Snape's tight arse, the beauty of it, the depth of his happiness made his throat ache and he bit back a sob, and leaned in closer, breathing in the scent of his lover as he slowly, very slowly at first, started to move.

Together, they leaned and grew closer, whispered words, slights shifts in position, moans and breath and gentle touch, communication by so many ways to allow two to become one, until finally, after much much longer than either would normally have lasted, they each came, exhaling the other's name, each orgasmic step intensified by the other's reaction.

And as the sun set in the autumn afternoon, they were reluctant to move, because moving meant leaving the confines of the warm bed, and Sirius lay spooned around Snape, as if protecting him. He knew that, in the world they were eventually going to have to acknowledge, there was no one to protect Snape and he could at least give him this, at least for a few hours, this total illusion of safety in a reality that spanned a bed, a bedroom, a small house.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Mmmmm...." he rolled over, not yet awake, feeling a body settle in the bed next to him. He hadn't heard Snape Apparate to the bedroom... and either Snape had Apparated naked, or he'd not heard him undress either. It didn't matter, really, because he was there, and that was all good.

Snape was propped up on his elbow, and leaned over. "I have a surprise for you," he whispered, "close your eyes..."

Sirius smiled, and did as he was told.

The smell hit him before the strawberry reached his lips.

They shared the berries, and kisses, and eventually Sirius rolled on top of the other wizard and they rubbed and thrust.

Sirius carded his hands through Snape's hair, ignoring the greasiness, touching, holding Snape's head, pulling him in close, then closer, as their mouths melded, sharing the taste of strawberries and of each other, and Sirius felt Snape's body shudder as he came, and then it was his turn, an orgasm that left him, exhausted and content and still sharing breath with his lover.

He arranged pillows and Snape lay against him, and Sirius stroked his back, and Snape gently kissed Sirius' collarbone.

"Where, just where, and how, did you find strawberries in November?" asked Sirius finally.

Snape looked up, a smile on his face. "Did you like them? The smile faded. "Lucius Malfoy had them brought from Australia," he said, "and since I had to put up with Lucius, Narcissa, and.... the rest of them this weekend, I figured they wouldn't miss a few." He grimaced, and sighed: "Actually, Narcissa was most gracious about it, she wanted to know if I wanted a weekly delivery, said they have them all winter."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "And what did you say?"

"No thanks, and then she said she felt I should, because I was too pale and looking rather tired, and was obviously not eating enough." He looked up at Sirius. "I didn't tell her that it was because for the past few months I've been running ragged between Umbridge and you."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" exclaimed Snape, "Sorry? No, don't be sorry! I've... never been happier in my life."

He bit his lip, ashamed at having blurted that out.

Sirius tightened his arms around the other wizard and leaned over to kiss him again: "Happiness," he whispered in Snape's ear, "tastes like strawberries... and lust smells of honey."

 

\----- ∞ -----

 

**Part IV**  
  
"No!" he laughed, "stop... really... stop...."

Snape stopped.

"No!" he moaned, "I meant don't stop, please, don't..."

Snape had brewed the tea for Sirius, but not taken it himself and had just smiled mysteriously when Sirius asked him why. They'd undressed, and Snape had cast a spell to warm the room and to dim the candles. He'd pushed Sirius down onto the bed, and had knelt next to him, running his hands all over Sirius' body.

Then he'd taken Sirius' left big toe in his mouth and the tingling had started. He'd laughed, giggled, really, and curled up and Snape had told him not to move, and he'd tried, tried not to, but was torn between wanting more of the prickly sensation and wanting it to stop, hence his contradictory begging. It wasn't just his toe, it was everywhere Snape's tongue touched, his toes, his ankle, the arch of his foot, tingling, warm and prickly, and connected, it seemed, to his cock.

Snape leaned over to whisper in his ear: "Stop curling up, Black, or I'll have to bind you," and Sirius had hesitated for only a second and said "Go ahead," and then it was Snape who had hesitated.

They stopped, and Sirius sat up and cupped Snape's face with his hand. "It's all right."

Snape spoke slowly. "I was... joking."

"I know you were... but it'll be fine. You've never... done that before?"

Snape shook his head. "You?"

Sirius sighed. "All of once. With a woman, and before Azkaban." He ran a hand along Snape's back. "It'll be fun."

"Are you sure?"

"Totally." He wasn't, actually. He was carefully repressing a small bubble of panic at the thought of being bound.... but he continued: "It's a game."

"Just like the rest of this." Snape flicked a hand between the two of them.

Sirius swallowed, not wanting to acknowledge the pain that Snape's words had caused. "Just like the rest of this," he lied, and he lay back down on the bed, spreadeagled, and spoke again: "And for the record, my safe word will be 'flower'."

Snape's voice trembled slightly as he cast binding spells and Sirius deliberately slowed his breathing, reminding himself to stay calm, that Snape would let him go if he asked, that he'd stopped earlier when Sirius had begged him to, and then... And then he forgot all his misgivings, because Snape licked the inside of his ankle, over the bone, up his leg, back down, and on the top of his foot, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.

It didn't stop. Everywhere Snape's tongue touched sprang to life in a frisson of pure pleasure that Sirius was unable to explain. Tingling impulses running up and down his body, his skin alight with bliss, small orgasms exploding in sensitive areas, behind his knees, his hands, his nipples, everywhere Snape's mouth met his body. Unable to move, he was forced to accept his body's total surrender to Snape's ministrations, and he gave himself up to the wave, his cock spurting pre-come, but held back from coming by Snape's tea. It was like floating in an ocean of delight.

Snape flipped him over, the magical bindings readjusting on their own, and the trail of hot and wet snaked up his leg, from his heel to behind his knees and his groan of pleasure was loud when Snape's tongue found the crease where thigh met buttock and licked it. His breath on the nape of Sirius' neck, and he felt Snape's cock, neglected until now, against his hip and he whimpered in need and pressed into Snape's hardness. He heard Snape's grunt of desire and felt pre-come smear between them and the warm tingling intensified and he realised that it wasn't just Snape's saliva but his come too and he shivered in anticipation.

They rocked for a while, Snape running his tongue in the volutes of Sirius' ears, his cock still hard against Sirius' hip, Sirius thrusting into the mattress.

As drop of sweat rolled off of Snape's brow, and onto Sirius' shoulder and he gasped at the unexpected point of pleasure.

Snape helped him turn over again and lay on top of him and Sirius' whole body was humming in a way he'd never experienced before.

Then Snape kissed him and any idea that his pleasure before had been complete was gone, because this was perfection, pure perfection, he was sure of that. Snape's mouth, his tongue, rough and wet against Sirius', the heat, the slow sensual fucking of his mouth... He moaned into the kiss, felt tears run down his face, overwhelmed with desire, and contentment, and Snape was licking his face, licking the tears away, kissing his ears, his neck...

His nipples were ablaze in sensation, and he knew pre-come was spurting everywhere. His moans had become a litany, "Severus, Severus, Severus..." repeated over and over. Every single inch of skin was thrilling to Snape's tongue, to his sweat and to his pre-come, and Snape had scooted down on the bed and Sirius heard his voice dissolve to a moan when Snape's tongue brought its tingly heat to his arsehole and breached his body there. Coherent thought was lost to pleasure as Snape made sure he was ready, his gestures confident and purposeful, and Sirius' head thrashed on the pillow and Snape let the bindings go, and Sirius finally, finally, was able to grab Snape and hold on as their mouths met and they rubbed together, then Sirius opened his legs and he felt Snape's cock at his entrance and relaxed, and Snape moved slowly, giving Sirius time to adjust, but he didn't want time, he wanted Snape inside him and he whimpered and begged and Snape pushed in and Sirius' vision was whited out by pain and he panted. Snape stilled and they waited, breathless, for a few moments, and Sirius stared at the look of concentration of Snape's face, at his control. He struggled up to his elbows and their mouths met again and the warm prickly pleasure enveloped him and Snape started to move and he felt a spurt of pre-come splash inside him and the tingling was inside and outside and he thought he might die of pleasure and they moved together, breathing harsh and chaotic, both wanting more and faster and Sirius knew he was close when Snape came and Sirius howled and every part of him was pure ecstasy. He didn't have time to moan when Snape pulled out quickly and took Sirius' hard and leaking cock in his mouth, and the tingling was there too, it was everywhere, and his orgasm was the most intense in his life, as he shot come down Snape's throat and every nerve in his body sparked in triumphant glory.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Warmth, from a body pressed against his and a duvet. Semi-darkness. Honey. He looked up into Snape's dark eyes. "Did I pass out?" he asked.

Snape nodded.

"That... that was..." he stopped, unable to continue, to even begin to describe the pleasure. Snape smiled at him and Sirius stumbled on: "How? I mean, how did..."

"A potion."

"I'd guessed that," he said, "but what one? I've never heard..."

Snape leaned over and kissed Sirius' lips, avoiding tongue contact. "It's one I learned to brew from my mother. It... isn't generally used for this purpose."

Eventually Snape slipped out of bed and got dressed. Sirius sank deeper under the covers, reluctant to move, wishing Snape didn't have to leave.

Snape sat down, and stroked Sirius' hair, his back, his shoulders. "Go to sleep. I'll see you this weekend."

He closed his eyes, and Snape's hand was still tangled in his hair when he drifted off.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Severus Snape lay on the floor of his sterile, cold, bathroom at Hogwarts Castle. The potion he'd taken was intended for older witches, to prevent the bone fractures that sometimes plagued them, and when taken by males resulted in an immediate case of kidney stones. The pain was excruciating and, not wanting to be muddled, he couldn't take a potion to alleviate it.

It had been worth it, though, he reflected afterwards. The pleasure he'd been able to give more than made up for the 36 hours of pain. He smiled to himself, remembering, and between the happiness of the memories and the relief at being pain-free, he was actually in a good mood that morning.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He paced the house all day, first to Remus' amusement, then to his annoyance. He didn't know how to say what he wanted to say.

Because "that was the best fucking ever", while true, didn't express the enormity of trust, caring, pleasure, and... tenderness that had passed between them. The words he kept coming back to were "I've never had anyone make love to me like you did the other night."

And so he paced. Because he was slowly realising that, at least for him, lust might have turned into love.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Dumbledore unexpectedly called an Order meeting on Friday evening. Remus was to go to Paris to await communication from a French Loup Garou Group.

They avoided looking at each other, what was happening between them was too private, too fragile to risk anyone finding out. So they snarled, as usual, glared a few times, and Molly threw up her hands in despair as they exchanged insults while she and Arthur whipped up a late night snack.

Remus was glum. He didn't want to travel. Then Tonks asked if she could accompany him, Dumbledore agreed, and he cheered up considerably.

In the chaos of the meeting breaking up, they found a quick moment to let hands meet, and Sirius squeezed, hard, and Snape responded and they exchanged a look and in Snape's dark eyes Sirius saw desire that matched his own. He mouthed "I miss you," and Snape rolled his eyes, and whispered "Tomorrow," and Kingsley asked Snape a question and the moment passed.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Snape was in his bedroom early Saturday morning, minutes after Remus and Tonks had departed for Paris.

"Were you waiting for him to leave?" asked Sirius, smiling. He was up and dressed, earlier than usual, and Snape hadn't managed to surprise him this time.

"Of course. I went through enough trouble to convince Dumbledore we needed him to go..."

"You...?"

Snape raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Get your cloak... or better, do you have a Muggle jacket?"

"Are we going out?"

"Yes, we are. It's almost Christmas. I hate Christmas."

Sirius laughed. "So what are we going to do?"

"See if there is a reason for all the rejoicing?" moaned Snape.

Sirius laughed harder. "Oh. You mean two bitter nasty men are going to wander around the Christmas revellers and find the... joy of the season?"

Snape nodded. "Either that or we can ruin it for everyone else?"

Sirius howled, as they went downstairs. He found a Muggle jacket, it was a bit small, but he transfigured it larger. He also added a scarf. Red and gold, of course. Snape glared at it sourly.

The Apparated to Snape's house in Spinner's End, and left it, in the cold morning. As they walked Snape spoke softly. "Actually, there is something I do every December, and... I'd like you to help. If you want," he added quickly.

"Of course. Tell me what?"

"I... prepare sweets for a local children's charity," he admitted, "for children whose families are homeless."

Sirius stopped. "You... prepare... sweets?" he asked, a grin threatening.

Snape nodded. "It's similar to potion making, really... proper temperature, stirring, ingredients, and... what?"

Sirius was looking at him. "You are the strangest person, Severus Snape. For years, I thought you were the most cruel, nasty person I'd ever met, and now that I know you better, I find... a man who is capable of tenderness, and caring, and who prepares sweets for children in need."

Snape shrugged, but didn't answer, and they continued to walk to a store where Snape purchased ribbon and holiday paper and pretty sparkly things, and Sirius donned a red Santa hat and by the time they left, everyone in the store was smiling at him.

Back in Snape's kitchen, they started to work, on 5 different kinds of sweets, on cupcakes, all delicious, thought Sirius who sampled constantly, and all beautiful.

The nasty little house smelled wonderful.

Later that afternoon, Sirius escaped to the sitting room with a cup of tea, his feet killing him, and sporting a burn on the back of one hand.

He wandered around, picking up books, flipping through their pages. He sat down at the small writing table, and idly picked up an envelope to check out the Muggle stamps on it. Noticing that it was from the charity Snape was planning on giving all the sugar laden concoctions to, he hesitated, pulled the letter out and quickly scanned it.

It hit him in the stomach like a punch, as painful as physical contact would have been.

Thank you, yes, as in previous years we're happy to accept, yes, in loving memory of Lily Evans...

Lily, Lily. Always Lily. It hurt now. It's not as if he hadn't known, didn't know... but the reminder that for Snape, there would only ever be Lily hurt deeply.

Ignoring the guilt, he flipped through the other papers on the desk. Property tax statements, gas bill, a note from a neighbour thanking him for all the tomatoes he'd given her that summer, bank statements and... He looked more carefully, went through another pile, and walked over to the couch and sat down, hard.

He'd not understood why Snape lived so sparsely, the awful towels, cheap soap, the lack of any type of luxury. Now he knew. Over (he mentally calculated, based on the salary Hogwarts was apparently paying Snape) 2/3 of Snape's pay went anonymously to St Mungo's Orphan's Fund and to an account whose beneficiaries were the "Grandchildren of Lily Evans Potter, when they come of age".

He sat and stared at his hands, sadness gnawing at him. He promised himself, too, that Monday he'd sit down and write up his will, make sure everything was left to Harry.

Snape came and joined him on the couch, gently taking his hand. He carefully rubbed some burn ointment on, and then turned Sirius' hand and kissed the palm. "We're done, I think. Would you like to help me package everything up?"

Sirius nodded, not trusting his voice, the lump in his throat painful. Snape had slipped easily into their fling, despite his initial misgivings, and Sirius had enjoyed the quick touches, the contact that Snape too seemed to enjoy... and yet now, it hurt. Lily. There was only ever Lily, there would only ever be Lily.

Having delivered the brightly wrapped packages to the charity's director, they walked for a while. It was dark, and snow was threatening. Holiday decorations were up, and the lights were cheerful.

Snape discreetly took his hand and held it. "What's the matter?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're unusually quiet."

"Oh... nothing, really."

Snape nodded. "All right... Would you like to go back to my place, back to Grimmauld Place, or walk some more? They'll be lighting the town Christmas tree this evening, and we can go watch?"

"Christmas revelry for bitter old men?" asked Sirius.

Snape shrugged and Sirius looked at him quickly. He had the strong impression that Snape wanted to stay, to participate in that small bit of holiday cheer so he ignored the depression he felt and pasted a smile on his face: "I need food... is there a place around here to get fish and chips?"

They ate greasy food from a nearby stand, Sirius pouring over the Muggle newsprint that wrapped their order, then they walked to the town centre and stood around as the final preparations were made. The cold had kept the crowds somewhat small and Sirius was glad for this.

As they watched the tree lit up, its electric lights blazing, and the crowd cheered. Sirius smiled as Snape's hand found his, and they left, talking softly about electricity versus candles and holiday celebrations, and snow.

It was snowing now, and Sirius looked at the white flakes in Snape's hair, feeling a strange longing, to be... loved, not just desired, and he stopped walking and kissed Snape, in the middle of the dark, silent street, not caring if anyone saw them.

"Black, it's not safe... Black... No... oh... oh Sirius..."

In Snape's small, chilly bedroom, they quietly undressed, and pressed together, kissed, and Sirius could not stop the tears as they rubbed together, sating physical desire, but leaving him desperately wanting more than that. Snape said nothing, but he tasted Sirius' tears and it seems to Sirius that his kisses were deeper and his embraces closer.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Neither moved that evening, they spent the night together, the first time they'd done that. Snape slept, but Sirius, spooned around his lover, did not. He lay awake, trying to grasp the new reality, to discern the path that had led from Padfoot whimpering at Snape's pain, from a tight closet, from a lark, to this absolutely overwhelming feeling of having finally found a soul-mate.

 

\----- ∞ -----

When Snape woke the following morning and found Sirius still there, he suppressed both the happiness and the surprise, and quickly made a decision. He'd talk to Dumbledore that afternoon. Then he rolled over towards his lover.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Severus! It's good to see you... Will you join me for tea?" Dumbledore smiled at the younger man and gestured to a seat across from a table where tea was set out. Snape groaned inwardly. He'd hoped to avoid the tea ritual.

"Have a scone, Severus! Or some gingerbread?"

Eventually, he was fed to the Headmaster's satisfaction. Dumbledore poured them each a fresh cup of tea and smiled: "Now, Severus, tell me what I can do for you?"

He'd rehearsed the words, knew the tone he wanted to adopt, he was ready. He started to speak.

"... So all in all, Headmaster, I don't see that keeping Black cloistered at Grimmauld Place makes sense," he concluded, "It's driving him crazy, and that in itself is a risk to him and the Order."

Dumbledore had remained silent during Snape's explanation. He sipped his tea and stared at the tea leaves floating in the bottom of the cup. He knew his silence was unnerving to Snape, but also knew the other wizard had total control over his emotions. What he was going to do was not going to be easy, but it had to be done.

"Well, Severus, your reasons are sound. I do agree with some of what you said, but there is some important data you lack."

Snape raised an eyebrow.

Dumbledore continued, his voice bland. "You see, Sirius is a slut."

Snape's voice was blander. "Excuse me?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Sirius is a slut. He will sleep with anyone, male or female, or both, at the drop of a hat." He sighed again and went on. "I had no end of problems with this during the First War. Sirius would sleep with Order members, and then of course leave them. I think it was the reason Peter flipped to Voldemort, and I don't think Remus ever forgave Sirius for breaking up with him when they were in the Sixth Year. He was always faithful to James, though. He never loved anyone else."

Snape swallowed. He'd gone very pale and Dumbledore pretended not to notice as he prattled on.

"We'd get new Order members and within days, Sirius would have gotten to them... He had this great line, as to why they should hop in bed with him and every single one of them totally bought it: 'lust', he'd say, 'we both want each other, we're going to jump out of our skins if we don't touch each other, bed?' and they'd all go to bed with him. He'd tire of them quickly and move on to someone else... or someone elses, since he was more than happy to do one or two or even three at once. We lost several Order members that way, they just could not stand to be near him after. They all thought they were in love with him and since he only ever loved James, they'd be crushed, and eventually, they'd drop out of the Order. If there were no Order members he wanted to... have an affair with, he'd pick up Muggles, in pubs, anywhere, men, women, prostitutes and not. I was always concerned that he was going to choose the wrong person, get himself killed, or betray us, because he often listened to his... umm... baser urges over his brain."

He poured himself more tea.

"So you see, keeping him inside prevents him from straying off and picking up strangers, like those two girls last summer. And since he is, I agree with this, depressed, he tends to leave the Weasley boys, poor Hestia Jones, and Miss Tonks alone. I'd hate to see how hard Remus would take it if Sirius messed with Miss Tonks..." Dumbledore sighed again. "Oh and yes, he'd sleep with her, little cousin or not. In the middle of the last war he had a short affair with Bellatrix Lestrange. Very frightening for all of us. And one of the reasons it was so easy to believe that he'd betrayed us, I must admit."

He stared at the teapot for a long time. "Did you ever notice that lust and slut have the same letters, only rearranged? Two sides of the same galleon." Then he smiled and added sugar to his tea. "Thank you for your concern, and I'll keep an eye on Sirius, make sure he's not getting too down or anything, but I do believe that this is safer for everyone. I'd hate for Harry to find out his godfather was killed while in bed with a male prostitute." He smiled again. "Was there anything else, Severus?"

 

\----- ∞ -----

He didn't care if the Dark Lord summoned him and he was dead drunk. He drank, first Firewhisky, then, more ominously, he took a Dreamless Sleep Potion and mixed it with a half dose of Draught of Living Death. Immediate Total Oblivion for 18 hours.

It didn't matter. When he woke, the pain was as bad as it had been when he'd collapsed on his bed.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Unknownst to Snape, Albus Dumbledore spent a bad night as well. Guilt ate at him, and he wondered if he should have been honest with the younger man, acknowledging that he knew of the relationship and that he thought it a poor idea, indeed a dangerous one.

He came to no conclusion, but when he saw Snape, cool and collected as usual, the next day, he decided that he'd been mistaken about the depth of Snape's feelings and let any lingering guilt go.

 

\----- ∞ -----

At first he waited patiently. Remus came back from France, saying that the meeting had been less than useful, but the voyage pleasant. Every night, he lay awake, hoping, and usually he'd fall asleep at dawn, something corrosive eating at his gut.

He sent an owl to Snape, and one crazy night, very late and when he was half drunk, he'd Apparated to Hogwarts, and then, in dog form, swam to the underground harbour, and followed the path he and Snape had taken months previously to the dungeons. He banged on the door for a good hour, but Snape did not open. When he got back to Grimmauld Place, chilled to the bone, anger was mingled with pain. It was easier that way.

He had no doubt that Snape had sensed his feelings and despised them, and he knew that... whatever it had been between them was over.

 

\----- ∞ -----

Depression become a constant in his life, and over the next few weeks, despite Harry's presence, he built up a toxic combination of rage, pain, and shame that came to a head in the kitchen when, face to face with Snape, they hurled insults at each other, and had they not been interrupted, would probably have come to hurling spells.

 

\----- ∞ -----

In the depth of winter he felt himself sinking further and further into a deep pit that seemed bottomless. He wondered, too, at his own sanity, feeling at the brink of something very scary.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"What did you tell him?" He'd learned to avoid words with esses, so Remus wouldn't hear the slurring.

"That if he didn't resume Occlumency lessons right away, I was going to tell Dumbledore," said Remus, quietly.

"What did he come back with?"

Remus shrugged. "He said that Harry wasn't learning and that it was his opinion that he was going more harm than good in attempting to teach him. That," Remus winced, "Harry was as arrogant as James had been, and that he thought he knew better than anyone and that they were just wasting each other's time."

"Fucking bathtard!" hissed Sirius.

"I'm going to have to ask Dobby check to see if Harry makes his next lesson. Dumbledore said he was trustworthy, even if he was Malfoy's house-elf."

 

\----- ∞ -----

Sirius, Dumbledore, and Remus were sitting at the kitchen table when Snape walked in. Sirius knew that they looked like some type of court, ready for judging and he knew Remus and Dumbledore were as angry and appalled as he himself was.

"Sit down, Severus," Dumbledore's voice was sharp.

Snape raised his chin slightly and when he spoke his voice was carefully neutral. "I'd appreciate it, Headmaster, if you would do me the courtesy of having this discussion in private?"

Dumbledore nodded and stood. "Would you make tea Remus, please? Drawing room, Severus."

He followed the younger man out, and Sirius waited thirty seconds and hopped up as well.

"Where are you going?" asked Remus.

Sirius held up one of the twins' Extendable Ears. "I figured they'd do it in private and I'm prepared," he said.

"Sirius..." Remus started, but Sirius was already gone.

He listened with relish as Dumbledore scolded Snape, reminded him of his promise, of the dangers Harry faced, and ordered him to resume the lessons immediately.

Snape was silent for a long time, but when he spoke, his tone was measured and calm. "No, I will not. Potter has violated my privacy. I have a right to privacy and to some semblance of dignity. I cannot continue to teach him under...."

Sirius had never heard Albus Dumbledore's voice to be as cold or as mocking.

"Oh Severus! Don't ever accuse me of not protecting your dignity. Without me, you'd have totally made a fool of yourself over Sirius Black! I trust I was able to prevent you from declaring eternal love to him or some such silliness?"

"Wha... you..."

"Knew? Of course I knew. You cannot hide something like that from me."

"I..."

"Please, Severus. Spare both of us this. Sirius is a slut, as I told you. You got taken in by his lust line, I suppose? I can see where having someone like him say they desired you would prove irresistible. Anyhow, no matter, it's over now, and I made sure you got out of that without debasing yourself too much. But please don't tell me that I don't care about your dignity and your reputation, because I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't warned you last autumn, you would have made some dewy eyed declaration, and he'd have jilted you faster than a Cornish Pixie makes mischief. Now..."

 

\----- ∞ -----

Sirius had heard enough. His hands trembling, he collected the Ear and went up to his room, sitting down on the bed, his head in his hands.

His first reaction was anger, and he wanted to confront Dumbledore. The old man had meddled in his life yet again, and the reason he'd been told of Snape's betrayal suddenly became clear. He'd played both of them, and with their history, they were easy to play.

It certainly didn't help that he **was** a slut, and that he **had** used the lust line on many many people before Snape. It worked well. It had worked with Snape... until, at some point, it was no longer lust and desire keeping them coming back for more, but something else.

Finally he calmed down enough to decide on his next step. He walked down to the kitchen, and calmly told Remus he was going to Hogwarts, not to wait up for him, that he might not be back until the following morning, but to please cover for him with Dumbledore.

Remus stared. "What are you talking about?"

He repeated himself. Remus was still staring blankly. He gave up. "Look, I'll probably be back tomorrow. Snape is not going to be back down here, but just tell Dumbledore that I went to bed, all right?"

"Will... Will he believe me?"

Sirius sighed. Remus hated lying and confrontation. "No, but he isn't going to have much of a choice. He'll either have to tell you the truth, which he doesn't want to do, or accept your lie. Either way, you'll both know what's going on."

"Which is what? What is going on, Sirius?"

Sirius looked levelly at his friend. He and Remus had been lovers a long long time ago, and he'd never recaptured that essential closeness, because he hadn't dared to let Remus get too close, in case he started caring again. Now, with Tonks and Snape in the picture, it was time, perhaps, to let go of that fear.

"Severus and I are lovers," he said, quietly, "Actually, no, that's not quite correct. I love him, and I think he loves me. Dumbledore has been doing his best to ruin this for us, and I'm not going to let him. Will you help me?"

Remus Lupin closed his eyes for a few seconds, surprised. Half a lifetime ago, he'd loved Sirius Black, and had known he wasn't loved in return. And there it was, all those years later, the pain, again, knowing that it was someone else, always someone else, that Sirius loved. James then, Severus now. Severus. He shook his head. But Sirius, his friend, his former lover, was asking for help. And he remembered Tonks' smile as they'd had lunch together the day before, and he slowly nodded. "Sure, I'll tell him you went to bed. Alone." He sighed. "You really shouldn't be going out..."

"I know. I don't care."

He hugged Remus briefly.

"Go, now. Be careful... and... Good luck, Sirius."

He grinned, and Apparated away.

 

\----- ∞ -----

He transformed into Padfoot right away and curled up near where he knew Snape would Apparate, and waited. He was glad for his thick black coat, and he listened to the night sounds in the forest and enjoyed the myriad of smells.

He heard the Pop! and stood, nose to the wind. It was Snape, and Padfoot, as he had almost a year before, recognised the smells: the honey smell he now knew was Snape's, lemon verbena, and the smell of distress, of emotional pain. He almost whimpered.

Snape started walked, slowly, his head bowed. Padfoot fell into step next to him and Snape stopped and stared. "Go away!" he hissed, but the dog ignored him and the man shrugged.

As they had before, they used the small boat to reach the underground harbour, Snape able to row this time, and the dog trotted behind the man as they went through the small dark passageways.

Eventually, they were in Snape's sitting room, door closed, and Sirius transformed.

Snape looked at him dully and his voice was... beaten. "Come for one last laugh, Black? Go ahead, laugh, then please go away."

His throat was dry, he realised he didn't know what to say. The words were simple, really. Three of them. I. Love. You. But... he'd never said them before, not even to James. He swallowed, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't.

So much had gone on, between them. Too much, perhaps, for a few small words to make it all right.

He took a deep breath. "Bed?" he asked.

Snape's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" His voice was hoarse, Sirius thought, with unshed tears. But maybe that was his own feelings speaking.

"Would you like to go to bed with me?"

"You have got to be..."

"Kidding? No, I'm not. I'm as serious as I ever am. Which I am all the time. Sirius, I mean."

Snape closed his eyes. "Black.... Get out."

"Why?"

"We've done this before, you saw how it turned out..."

"Mmmm... yeah, I did. With the best, bar none, sex in my life, yours too I suspect, with some happiness that neither of us thought we'd ever get, with... friendship between two men who'd hated each other, with fish and chips from a greasy stand... and with my finding the person I want to spend the rest of my life, however long it is, with."

Snape opened his mouth, but Sirius raised a hand. "No, wait. There is one more thing I want to say. I'd never, with any of the other people I've been with, I've never spent the night, never let anyone spend the night. Ever."

Snape's voice was still. "You fell asleep."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I didn't. I was awake, all night, holding you. I knew what I was doing, knew that... this was a path I'd not taken before, with anyone. And..." He bit his lip, knowing that this was something that would hurt. "And that includes James Potter."

Snape was silent, staring at his feet. Sirius could not prevent the small glimmer of hope that he felt, almost physically. "Bed?" he asked again, willing his voice not to tremble, but he was too nervous to care that he had failed.

Snape nodded slowly. "Come on, then."

He remembered the first time he'd followed Snape to his room, at Spinner's End, how awkward it had been and how now it just felt right. His breath quickened when he thought of the pink heart on Snape's arse, and Snape's arse for that matter.

No words were exchanged. As usual, Sirius tore off his clothes and tossed them wherever, and Snape undressed slowly, each button carefully undone, then he carefully folded each item of clothing, and carefully set it on a chair.

He'd thought they would be desperate for each other, that the second they touched, passion would ignite, and that things would go from there. What he didn't expect was the slow, sensual warmth of what he now admitted to himself was love, the hands held, the kissing that lasted for hours, sex delayed because simple touch was more communication. He didn't expect, either, that his throat would ache at the beauty of Snape's face, unguarded at last, or that a tender caress could bring so much joy. He didn't expect, much later, when they finally did bring each other to orgasm, that both their faces would be wet with tears neither acknowledged, and that, even later, as the cold light of dawn filtered magically into the dungeon bedroom, that they'd finally find sleep, breath shared, black hair mingling on the pillow, lips close. He didn't expect, certainly, that he would whisper "I love you!" into Snape's ear and that Snape would whisper back "I love you too." And more than anything, better than anything, he didn't expect the joy at the merging of body and mind, the indescribable feeling of total contentment when physical and emotional desire are both slaked.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Don't go! Lupin and the rest of them will have it under control, you..."

"I have to go, Severus. Harry is in danger."

Snape closed his eyes. Fear ate at him, like no other.

"Sirius, please..."

"I'm going."

Snape nodded. They held each other, gripping hard.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He buried his face in Snape's neck, inhaling deeply. Honey, but Sirius had been curled up on his bed in dog form when Snape had Apparated to his bedroom, his face wild with worry. He'd smelled it for the first time on the man, fear. With love comes fear, fear for the other, fear of loss.

He kissed Snape again. "I'll help you in your garden this weekend..." he said with a smile, and he ran off to join the others, as Snape went back to Hogwarts.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Leave now. But you do need to know that it is your stubbornness that has brought this about. Sirius would still be alive if you'd continued to teach Occlumency to Harry, and I hold you responsible for his death."

 

\----- ∞ -----

He worked alone in the garden all day, tears running down his face, a coldness that would never leave him again surrounding him. He'd loved twice, and both were dead, and his only consolation was that he knew that he too would die before this was all over.

He'd not slept since Sirius had died, not eaten, just attempted to deal with the emptiness that threatened to engulf him. Dumbledore had apologised, saying that he'd been hurting and that he shouldn't have said those things, but Severus knew they were true. It was his fault. He had killed Sirius, just as he had killed Lily, and he wished the pain would just kill him.

He finished late in the night, everything ready for the growing season, the pots carefully lined up, small green plants had already popped up in some of them. He fell asleep, finally, at the small table, sitting up, exhausted beyond words, heartsick.

He did not dream.

He woke up in the cold dark before dawn, somehow comforted, feeling as if Sirius was near, close to him and he cried, his head in his arms, the tears cathartic: he'd live, he'd see this through, work towards the defeat of the Dark Lord, and when his time came, maybe, just maybe, he'd have tilted the scales in his favour enough that Lily and Sirius would be there to greet him.

He stood slowly, his body cramped from having slept sitting up on a hard metal chair. Sunlight was teasing the edges of his courtyard garden, and he gasped audibly as he looked around him.

All the strawberry plants were in fruit. They'd been just little plants the night before when he'd finished with them, not even in flower, but they were bearing now, big, fat, red, ripe berries, and the smell was overwhelming.

Happiness tastes like strawberries, Sirius had said.

Slowly, Severus Snape kneeled down, picked a berry, and slowly brought it to his mouth. Despite the early morning chill, it was as warm and luscious as the ones he'd shared here with Sirius almost a year before. He smiled, softly, remembering, understanding now that all this was part of him, the love he had for Lily, his childhood friend, his first friend, the love he'd had for Sirius, unexpected, and born of lust, but filled with tenderness that he'd not known he had inside him. Loving them would give him the courage to go on.

He picked a basket of berries, and dropped them off at the children's charity he donated sweets to at Christmas, and told the director he'd bring her as many as he could, over the summer, as long as the plants bore. When she thanked him, he said that it was also in memory of a friend, and she asked him if it was the man who'd been with him at Christmas, and he nodded, and to his surprise, she gently touched his arm and said, "I'm sorry."

 

\----- ∞ -----

After Snape's death, according to the provisions in his will, his books went to Hogwarts, his house was sold and money divided in three. One third to a local children's charity, to provide the children with sweets around Christmas, and strawberries in the summer, one third to the Saint Mungo's Orphan's fund, one third to the account held in trust for Lily Evans Potter's grandchildren, an account Harry Potter wouldn't find out about until his son James Sirius turned 17.

A single mother, Kaylee Banks, and her daughter, Clarisse, bought the house at Spinner's End. Clarisse was eight at the time. She loved to play outside and spent much time in the small garden. She told her mother, soon after they moved in, that when she was sad or scared, she always felt comforted, that the little courtyard would smell of strawberries. Her mother didn't believe her, but for the rest of her life, Clarisse associated strawberries with happiness, and safety, and always remembered the small garden as the ultimate refuge from the world.

 

\----- ∞ -----

"Lily," he said, "Lily."

She smiled, her hair glowing in the light, her smile as sweet as he remembered. "Sev!" and she hugged him and he thought he was going to cry.

"Everything went well. Voldemort is dead, Sev. They won, Harry is fine."

He nodded. It hadn't all been in vain then.

"Come on." She smiled again, almost shy, "Sirius said the strawberry plants need to be gotten ready for summer and he's waiting for you."

 

\----- ∞ -----

**Finis**


End file.
